Even Death
by Goldy
Summary: B/A re-write of S6/S3. Buffy and Angel decide that life is to short to spend it apart. Yet it seems life can never be easy for the two of them. Can they live happily ever after? Started after 'Flooded.' Not Spike friendly.
1. Even Death

Title: Even Death  
  
Author: Goldy  
  
Email: thegoldoneb_a@hotmail.com  
  
Disclaimer: *snort*  
  
Spoilers: Nothing major. The first couple of episodes of S6.  
  
Summary: I couldn't quite wait until Tuesday. Here's the way the meeting should go. Plus it *includes* the crossover.  
  
Rating: PG or PG-13. It's kinda heavy on the angst. Although, it does have a happy ending. If you're a B/Aer anyway…  
  
Dedication: Anyone who believes in that Angel would really be the best one to comfort Buffy on her whole coming back from the death problem.  
  
It's been over six months since my mom died. It's been about that long since I've last been to this place. I remember that day so clearly, even though so many other things are muddled. Finding her on the couch—telling Dawn. Of all the things that I wish I could forget, that day is definitely in the top three.  
  
I didn't come out here that day, or the next, or even the next. But it was *soon* after she died that I decided that I needed to go to LA.  
  
Of course, halfway there I had suddenly remembered just why that probably wasn't the best idea. So, instead, I had stopped at a bar right between Sunnydale and LA. It was one of those grunge places that no one in their right minds would bother to go to. Run-down, dark, dusty, a haven for all things that go bump in the night. It had fit my mood perfectly.  
  
The weirdest part was that he had known somehow, and had been there that night. Maybe it had been fates way of helping me. It might have even been their way of helping him, from what he had told me that day things hadn't been exactly easy. I don't recall very much about that what was said between the two of us then, I think I had drunk even too much for my slayer senses to handle, but he had shown up for mom's funeral the next week so we must have talked about something.  
  
When Angel called me, I have to admit that I had been surprised. I probably shouldn't have been, but I had pretty much forgotten about him in the last couple of days that I've been alive. He was always there close to the surface. Something that I wanted to think about but couldn't. Because to think about it would have made everything that much harder. It would have made everything that I had lost all that much harder.  
  
I had to say hello three times before I had gotten any kind of a reply. Even then I could barely hear it, but it had sparked something deep inside me, something that I had thought died with me when I jumped off of that tower.  
  
 "Buffy?" he had said to softly and so confused that I had almost started crying right there and then.  
  
 Suddenly I had been transported back in time to another place when things had been easy and simple. When my biggest worry was finding time to study for a math test in between slaying and trying to keep up a normal life.  
  
"Angel?" I had whispered over the phone. It was always a question, Angel are you there? Are you real? Do you love me?  
  
 "I… I need to see you," he had fumbled, sounding like he might break down any minute.  
  
had stood there in shock for a while, feeling guilty for not talking to him sooner. For not thinking of him sooner.  
  
"Buffy?" he asked when I didn't make a reply.  
  
         
  
"I'm here," I said shaking my head, trying to focus. But sometimes it could be so hard.  
  
"You know where to meet me," Angel said and hung up.  
  
I did know where to meet him. Here, at this run-down bar that fits my mood perfectly. Again. At least, I hope this is what he meant, but I don't know where else we could meet. I'm staring at the scotch in front of me, but I haven't taken a sip yet. It's crazy because I haven't even turned 21, but I don't get carded whenever I want alcohol. I think it's because I look so old. I'm 20 going on 70.  
  
I can feel him. Those little hairs on the back of my neck stand up that absolutely scream vampire. But when he's around it also screams stuff like lover, and mate. I can feel his eyes on me, but I don't bother to turn around. He can come over to me when he wants, and the more time I get is fine. I don't even know what I'm supposed to say.  
  
"Hi Angel! Guess what? My best friends brought me back from heaven and my life has never been worse, not even when you left me. How are you?"  
  
Ha. Somehow I don't think that will work too well. It's strange, though, because I'm half-afraid that I may say exactly that. When it comes to Angel, he always manages to get me to say things that no one else can. I've told him stuff that no one else can even dream off. Sometimes that has gotten me in trouble and I'd end up hurting him because I'm the one who is hurting.  
  
I can feel him getting closer and I can hear a sharp intake of breath behind me, but I still don't bother to move. I'm frozen. He also has that effect on me.  
  
"Buffy?" he mutters behind me in disbelief and there's that question again. I can practically hear him thinking, 'are you real?' And this time I desperately want to answer him. I want to jump in his arms and sob against him and assure him that I'm here and I'm real even though I don't want to be. Except I can't, because I'm frozen.  
  
I stare at my scotch and feel hot tears well behind my eyes. It isn't fair! The one thing that would make my existence in this world that much more bearable is forbidden to me.  
  
Angel stands behind me, breathing heavily and not doing anything. I begin to wonder if he could get mad at me for not saying anything. Or maybe he'd get mad because I didn't call him earlier. Or maybe he's just like me, and he doesn't know what to say because he might say too much.  
  
I hear him move and I know that he is standing beside me, waiting for me to say something that would confirm that it was me and I'm okay. But I can't because I'm not even sure if it is me or if I'm okay.  
  
I feel his fingers under my chin and he gently forces my head to turn to meet his eyes. I feel the tears come closer to the surface. God, looking at him makes me feel a lot weaker, like I'm a little girl again. With Angel I don't have to pretend to be something I'm not. I don't have to be careful how I act just so I won't worry him.  
  
He looks bad. Like he hasn't slept in a while. Or maybe like he barreled his way over here, breaking all speed limits in the process. I wouldn't be surprised if he had. It just seems like something he would do.  
  
I can see the worry in his eyes as he looks me over. I know that if he looks bad, I must look awful. I can see it in his eyes. The way that they wash over me, taking note of the dark smudges around my eyes, and the way I can't seem to stop trembling slightly. He pauses when he gets to the dark cuts and bruises in my knuckles and realization dawns in his eyes. I feel my breath catch because he doesn't even need to say anything. I can feel his heart breaking for me.  
  
"I'm okay," I finally manage to say in a hoarse voice. I know that he won't believe that for a second, but I can't help it. I suddenly don't want him to worry about me. And then it hits me like a truck barreling down the highway at a hundred miles per hour. I may have died, but my love for this man beside me certainly hasn't.  
  
Angel doesn't say anything and the worry in his eyes doesn't diminish at all. He traces the counters of my face with his finger as if trying to reassure himself that I'm really here. I close my eyes and feel myself relax a little. I can feel the hesitation in his touch. I want him so badly to cradle me in his arms and hold me. I want the comfort that only he could provide. The only heaven in this hell.  
  
"Angel," I whimper quietly. And there it is in those words. All the pain that I have been going through since I have been brought back. I know that he can't have any idea what has really happened, but I know that he understands and that's all that matters.  
  
He sinks down to his knees and pulls me against him. I fall into his arms like a drowning man would grab on to a lifesaver. Here in this dank place, where no one knows us and no one cares about us, I can sob because I can't hold it in anymore. And he holds me and rocks me and whispers words of comfort in my ear.  
  
It was good because it was Angel.  
  
Finally, when there isn't anything left in me, I just lie against him hiccupping. His hands move up and down my back and through my hair and I hold him, making a decision to never let go. Life is too short.  
  
"What did they do to you?" he mumbles in my ear, his voice sounding angry and oddly comforting at the same time.  
  
It made me cry again because he cares so much, and he's the only one that doesn't expect anything from me. He doesn't expect me to go out and slay, or play mommy, or get a job, or say thank you.  
  
I can feel him stiffen against me and I know that he thought that he had said something wrong to make me cry again. But he had said everything right. So I just hold him tighter because I don't think that I'm capable of speech.  
  
When I had cried myself out for the second time I pull back a little. I know that Angel wants answers, but he would never push me to tell him anything. But he would expect me to tell him when I was ready. And I know that I will tell him everything when it's time for it. It's always been that way—Angel is the one I could share my problems with when there is no one else.  
  
He wipes the last of my tears away with his thumb and I manage to give him a slight smile.  
  
"I got you all wet," I sniffle.  
  
Angel looks at me in surprise, "I don't mind."  
  
I take a deep shaky breath, "I know."  
  
He gave me the worst imitation of a smile that I have ever seen and my heart breaks all over again. I wonder how he handled my being gone. I know that if he ever left this world before me, I wouldn't be able to go on.  
  
"You're really here," he said incredulously.  
  
This time I nod, and I know that it is my time to comfort him. I'm right. Angel gathers me in his arms again and starts weeping quietly against me. This time I'm the one who rubs his back, reassuring him that I'm real.  
  
When his tear ducts are empty, I know that it is time for answers. He looks at me and we communicate silently like we have always managed to do. I grab his hand and help him to his feet. I'm actually surprised that no one in this bar noticed us, but I think that they are too busy dealing with their own pain to pay attention to ours. That's just the kind of place this is.  
  
We don't go far. Across the street to a motel that is just as dark and run- down as the bar we were just in. But that doesn't matter. Nothing much seems to matter when I'm with him. It's like we're the only two people in the world and all the pain and suffering that we've been through takes a back seat.  
  
The paying for the room would be another matter.  
  
"Angel, I… I don't have any money."  
  
He looked at me oddly. "I wouldn't have expected you to bring any money out here."  
  
I sigh. And blink away fresh tears. " No I mean, I don't have any money," I whimper. "Nothing. I'm broke. I can't pay for the repairs to my house. I can't set up a college fund for Dawn. I can barely even afford to put food on the table every night."  
  
I see something go through his eye; a hard flash of anger that passed and then goes. I can't help but hold on to that flash, it made me feel whole again. Angel was looking out for me. Maybe this wasn't hell, after all.  
  
"It's okay, I'll pay."  
  
I nod. I figure that he probably would've anyway. "What are we doing?" I ask because I know what this sounds like and we both know *that* can never happen.  
  
Angel looks at me with so much sadness that it makes me wonder just how bad I look. "I want you to get some rest," he says leaving no room for discussion.  
  
I don't bother to point out that my bed isn't all that far away, or that it is free, or that it would probably be a lot more comfortable and cleaner than anything we are going to find at this motel. I know there is no point in bringing up those arguments because Angel knows that I can't sleep in my bed. He knows that I'll only be able to sleep far away from any memories that might assault my confused brain. And I feel a little lighter knowing that someone is going to be taking care of me. Finally.  
  
The price for the room is cheap, but the room is even cheaper. It's like everything else where we were: dark and dank. It's like me. But it's perfect because it isn't Sunnydale and it isn't a group of people that are all fawning over me like I'm going to break any minute.  
  
Angel nods towards the bed that looks like it hasn't been cleaned in weeks, but still it's okay. Suddenly I'm exhausted and since I pretty much haven't slept in a week, I think I have good reason to be. Angel looks at me and I can read the question in his eyes. It thrills me to know that even after all this time we can still communicate wordlessly. I take his hand and pull him down next to me. I curl my body up against his big strong one and let him rock me. For the first time since coming back I feel peaceful and I think that maybe, just maybe, life isn't so bad.  
  
I can feel my eyelids grow heavy, but I'm so afraid of sleep. When I close my eyes and surrender to the darkness, the nightmares come, and I'm back in my coffin, running out of air, wondering how to get out. I feel a tremble go through me and Angel holds me tighter until I relax.  
  
"I'm afraid," I admit.  
  
He doesn't bother to ask me what I'm afraid of. I'm pretty sure that he knows. Someone who has done as much as he has in his lifetime must get some nightmares.  
  
"Sleep," he says simply.  
  
I bury against him, as if that could take away the nightmares. I know that he understands, and I also know that he is right. I need to sleep. But there were other things I'm afraid of.  
  
"Stay," I state firmly.  
  
I feel him stiffen, and I know that I'm going somewhere he doesn't want to go. But I won't let him leave me again. I did that once, and it made me weaker. I need him to go on, I need my strength.  
  
"I'll stay as long as you need me," he answers after a pause.  
  
I close my eyes and feel those tears again. I remember the last time he had said that, and he hadn't stayed as long as I needed him then. I had needed him forever, but he had left me and I had died. I went to heaven. Or at least I think I did. The more I try to remember the further away it gets. But I know that my friends were there and they were happy, and he was there, and we were happy. I was happy, for the first time in my life I had been truly happy. And that's what I remember.  
  
"I need you forever," I say bitterly. "Angel, I could leave again at any time. I'm the slayer and my life is short. And it sucks. But you make it suck a little less."  
  
"Sleep, we'll talk in the morning," Angel repeats.  
  
I felt him withdrawing from me but I hold on. "No, not until you promise."  
  
He is quiet for a really long time, and I'm starting to wonder if I said the wrong thing. "Angel, please," I beg feeling the tears come again.  
  
"You don't have to beg, Buffy," he finally says. "I don't think I could ever leave you again. I just can't… you know that I can't…. love you in that way."  
  
I shrug, "Whatever way you love me is good enough."  
  
He got quiet again and I won't push him. He will talk to me when he's ready.  
  
"Sleep," Angel repeats for the third time. "We'll talk when you wake up."  
  
I close my eyes. He's right. I'm too tired to argue tonight anyway. I'll let him hold me and I'll let myself pretend that I'm in heaven and everything is all right. And then I drift off, somehow knowing that the nightmares can't reach me in Angel's arms.  
  
When I open my eyes I'm greeted with his beautiful face staring at me like I'm an angel. I trace my finger over his lips. "I'm glad that you're here."  
  
Angel immediately moves away from me and I stare at where he used to be, shocked at the sudden loss I feel. And then it hit me.  
  
"You think it's your fault, don't you?"  
  
Angel doesn't say anything, but I can physically feel him tense up.  
  
"Angel, nothing you could have done would have changed what happened to me! I didn't have any choice. Glory was gone, but I still had to save the world. There was *nothing* anyone could have done to stop that."  
  
"I don't care!" he yells and I can't help but jump. I don't remember there being a time where he has ever yelled at me. "You were in hell! Buffy, you didn't deserve that. You deserved a party and a visit from God on his knees! And if there was anything I could have done to prevent that—"  
  
"Shut up!" I cry. I wish that people would stop saying that I was in hell. To hear him say it hurts. I always figured that he would know right away. I thought that he would take one look at me and know that I hadn't been in a demon dimension. I mean, after all, hadn't he taken the trip himself?  
  
"You have no idea what you're talking about!"  
  
Angel looks so shocked at my outburst that it almost made me laugh. It must be the bitter anger in my voice that got to him. Or it could be the hopelessness that doesn't seem so foreign anymore.  
  
"They took away my gift," I say a little softer. I was getting near hysterics—if I didn't start crying I would laugh. "Death was my gift and they took it away from me. My best friends took away my gift."  
  
Now he got it. I can see the realization dawn in his eyes. And then this anger. It seemed to consume him whole, and I was suddenly afraid of him. I was afraid of Angel. That was something that I never thought would be possible. I brought my knees up to my chest and started trembling violently. I don't want to make him mad. I just want to be told that everything is going to be okay.  
  
I flinch a little when I felt his arms come around me, but he was gentle, so gentle when he pulled me against him. And I cried. Again. He rocks me and promises over and over again that he would never leave me alone. I cry until I felt purged. I cry until I'm empty. There is nothing left inside me.  
  
"I love you," Angel whispers so quietly that I'm afraid that those words are just a fragment of my imagination.  
  
But they are real. Angel loves me. Angel loves me. Angel still loves me. I was wrong. There is something left inside me after all, and it took him to bring it out again. My old self, the Buffy that everyone used to love, is down there. I can feel her, and I know that with the help of this man she will get a little closer to the surface everyday.  
  
"I'm going back to Sunnydale with you," Angel growls dangerously.  
  
I shiver a little, but I know that he isn't angry with me. He's angry with Willow and Xander and everyone else who helped bring me back. And that's fine with me. I'm glad that someone can yell at them, since I can't.  
  
"And then we're going to sell the house and move you and Dawn to LA with me. We'll use the money from the house to pay back any debts. You can work with me and set up a college fund for Dawn."  
  
I'm holding on to Angel gratefully. Here he is with a solution to all my problems. Or, at least, the money part. "Someone needs to protect Sunnydale," I argue pitifully. I like his idea. And I think I need it. I need out of Sunnydale. I understand why Giles needed to go to London so badly. I need to get away from the place where I died, and I need to get away from the people I thought were my friends.  
  
"If Willow is so powerful she should be able to handle it," Angel says bitterly.  
  
And I don't argue.  
  
Angel brushes his lips over mine in a way too quick kiss, "Everything is going to be okay."  
  
I thought there was no more tears left in me. I was wrong. Angel could, in fact, make me start crying again. "I love you, too," I sniffle and the look he gave me almost made everything really okay.  
  
And I think everything will be okay. If Angel is with me, I can get through anything.  
  
Even death.  
  
END 


	2. Past Death

Title: Past Death  
  
Author: Goldy  
  
Email: thegoldoneb_a@hotmail.com  
  
Disclaimer: 'Ats' and 'BTVS' are in the very capable hands of DG, MN, and the WB. Did I say capable? I meant, no good, undeserving hands!  
  
Spoilers: 'The Gift' as well as S6 and S5.  
  
Synopsis: Buffy and Angel's drive home from their meeting. This is a sequel to 'Even Death.'  
  
A/N: Since Shawn is making such a good series from her version of the crossover, I decided to do one to because there was so much left unresolved in 'Even Death.' Oh, and this one is from Angel's POV, which I've always had trouble with before so don't get mad if it's terrible.  
  
Feedback: Let me know if you think this should be the last in my series (  
  
  
  
"So, what are we going to do now?"  
  
Buffy looked at me with wide and pleading eyes. I noticed that she was still trembling slightly, and I inwardly cursed anyone that did that to her. I brushed a piece of her blonder hair behind her ear and did my best to give her a reassuring smile.  
  
"Can you manage going back to Sunnydale?"  
  
Buffy gave a noticeable shiver that was different from the trembling that had been going on before. Then, she seemed to get a handle on herself and nodded bravely.  
  
She took my hand and gave it a quick squeeze. "If you're with me, I'll be fine."  
  
I nodded and led her out of that crappy motel room and out into the crappier night. I knew that we had both brought our own cars out to meet here, but by unspoken agreement, we took mine.  
  
I was surprised when she didn't make any comments about the car that I drove, it just seemed like something that she would do. Then again, a lot has changed the woman that I still love. I'm not even sure if she fully realized that we were actually in a car.  
  
My joy at having her back was just slightly over-shadowed by the fact that *she* didn't want to be back, and that wherever she had been, she had been happier. Everything in me rebelled in the injustice that had been served. Buffy was good. She was pure. She was sunlight. She had deserved the heaven that she had been given.  
  
But then I remember that everything that I have ever done has been for Buffy. Half of me felt like screaming it out to the world that she was back, and another half felt guilty for being happy about her being back.  
  
And that was really it. I'm selfish. I'm happy that she's back, and I don't care what she had to give up to be back.  
  
And back to the guilty thing.  
  
The only way that I had survived the months without her had been the knowledge that she was somewhere better. But there is no way that can be compared to the real thing. She may be a shell of her formal self, but she is Buffy, and I love her. And I hate the fact that if I knew what Willow had been planning, I wouldn't have tried too hard to stop it.  
  
"I know what you're thinking," she said to me.  
  
I gave a quick glance at her in surprise and she shrugged. "It's all over your face." Buffy gave a wry smile. "I like that I can still understand you."  
  
I felt my heart breaking a little. She looked so lost and so little. When she looked like that I wanted to rip Willow and anyone that helped her to little pieces.  
  
And I also felt like dancing, because she was *here* to look lost, alone, and scared.  
  
"What do you mean?" I asked trying to keep a handle on my emotions. I can hide almost anything from anybody, but when you're friends are Cordelia and Wesley you don't have to try too hard. I forgot that Buffy could read me like a book if I let her.  
  
"I mean, I'm glad that I still know you. I'm glad that even though it's been more than two years, I still have power over you."  
  
I gave a quick glance at her in the rearview mirror. She didn't look quite as small and unprotected as a minute ago, but I still had this big urge in me to wrap her up and never let harm come to her. Buffy's always wanted someone to protect and take care of her, and I've always wanted to protect and take care of her. Of course, being the slayer, Buffy would never let someone shelter her, and I would never try.  
  
Still, it gave me a weird kind of satisfaction to know that *I* was the only that could help her now.  
  
"You never stopped having power over me," I answered truthfully.  
  
"Even when I was dead?" she whispered, turning her head away from me.  
  
Even though it only hurt me up more to hear her say that, I calmly steered the car off the road, and calmly turned on the breaks. I turned, so that I was facing her. She still wouldn't look at me, so I slid two fingers under her chin and forced her head around.  
  
"*Especially* when you were dead." I pierced her with a heavy stare, daring her to argue.  
  
Buffy's eyes got a little watery and she wrapped her arms around me. I pulled her to me and held on to her for dear life. I breathed in her scent, which hadn't changed at all. She still smelled like vanilla, flowers, and hope. She was so amazing and I thanked the gods for the millionth time that she was back. I think that the only reason that I managed to get through those long months without her was the fact that somewhere I knew that she would be back. I couldn't accept the fact that she was truly gone. If I had, I don't think I could have looked down that long road of immortal life without Buffy.  
  
"Don't feel bad," Buffy whispered in my ear. "Be happy that I'm back. If someone had told me in heaven that I needed to come back here to save you, I would have done it without question."  
  
I held her tighter and rained little kisses in her hair. She was the most beautiful creature that I had ever seen. She was Buffy.  
  
She pulled back away from me a little and lay a finger on my lips. "And don't even think of leaving me again. There are more important things in life than, sex, kids, and sunlight. I'm just sorry that it took my death for us to realize that."  
  
I nodded, not quite having the control to do much else.  
  
She looked at me in fear. "You're *so* reassuring."  
  
I traced the counters of her face, memorizing once again what she felt like under my fingertips. "You were the one who really left."  
  
Her eyes softened and she gave me a sad look. "If you're beside me I won't ever be able to leave."  
  
I wanted to protest and tell her that she was the slayer and she could die again at any moment. I wanted to tell her that the only way she would be safe would be if I locked her up and protected her from the outside world forever. I wanted to tell her that when she started to live again, my life started to have meaning again.  
  
But the look on her face silenced me.  
  
I *was* having trouble hiding my emotions. She knew what I was feeling and she could feel what I was going through. It gave me a thrill that she could still read me, just as she said she could.  
  
"Protect me?" The blonde girl resting against me looked up with wide little girl eyes. The most feared warrior on this planet was begging *me* to keep her safe.  
  
"Always," I promised with a quick kiss to her lips.  
  
Buffy pulled away and curled back up in the passenger seat. I closed my eyes, not prepared for the loss of her warmth against me. I had steeled myself to accept that I would never be able to hold her again, even before she died. But now that I could, I didn't ever want to let go. Although, *someone* needed to drive us to Sunnydale.  
  
The rest of the trip was made in silence, though, it wasn't an uncomfortable awkward silence. I could feel the love that we had for each other pulsing in the air, surrounding us. It touched me and helped remind me of what I was put on this Earth to do.  
  
Recently I'd just been going through the steps of what was expected. When Cordy got a vision I'd go and kill the demon. Or I'd help a friend if they got into trouble. But I wasn't out there to help people. I no longer had a goal to reach. There was no ultimate reward down the road. Humanity didn't mean anything if Buffy wasn't there.  
  
I wondered where her thoughts were, and for the first time I had absolutely no idea what she was thinking about. Was she regretting being here with me when she could be in heaven? Was she thinking about the friends that had betrayed her? It scared me that I didn't know. Living for 250 years made people an open book for me. Especially Buffy. Looking at her and not being able to read her was like waking up one day and realizing that your whole life was a lie.  
  
This was just more disturbing.  
  
When we passed the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign I decided I couldn't take it anymore. "What are you thinking about?" I asked carefully.  
  
Buffy jumped a little at the sound of my voice. "It's not important," she said without giving anything away.  
  
I concentrated on the road trying not to let anything that *I* was feeling show through. In the past when I asked her that question, I would always be able to tell whether she was angry, sad, or happy. Now, I had no idea what she was feeling. I couldn't help the nagging feeling that told me that I *should* know because if I didn't that meant that Buffy had changed since the last time I had seen her. That meant that being in heaven had taken a drastic change on her. And I didn't know if I could ever get her old self-back again.  
  
"It's important to me," I finally answered.  
  
She didn't say anything for a long time, and I was starting to think that she was either ignoring me or I had just dreamed up our short conversation. When we reached Revello Dr. she finally opened her mouth.  
  
"I was thinking about mom."  
  
I parked the car outside of her house but neither of us made any move to get out. I took her hand giving it a tight squeeze, silently telling her to continue.  
  
"I remember less and less about heaven every day. I know that I was happy, but not much else. What if I never saw her there, Angel? What if I never told her how much I loved her? What if." she trailed off and stared at the house.  
  
"What if, what?" I asked softly.  
  
She squinted as if trying to catch on to a thought in her head. "What if I wasn't really in heaven? What if *this* is all part of it? What *is* life?"  
  
Confusion marred her face and I wished that there were something I could say to make it better. But this was something that I had never had to deal with in my long 200+ years of existence. I often wondered where my soul had been at the times that it wasn't with me. I don't have any memories of heaven, and the only memories I have of hell were when I had physically been there.  
  
"There isn't any answer to that question, Buffy. I don't know what life is. I don't think anyone knows what it is. But it is real. *This* is real. I'm real, and I know that you're here. You're about as real as they come."  
  
I was rewarded with a smile. A brilliant Buffy smile. A smile that took all my strength not to grin back at. It made my heart leap with joy at seeing that smile. The last time I had seen her smile like that was on a cold November day two years ago.  
  
A day that never happened.  
  
I realized that if all it took for me to get joy was to see Buffy smile, then I was heading into very dangerous territory. Although, when it comes to Buffy, my soul is always in trouble.  
  
"Thank you," I said, gazing at her in wonder.  
  
She shifted uncomfortably under my gaze, "For what?"  
  
"For being you."  
  
Buffy gave another smile, but this one was tinged with sadness. "Why do you always say the right things?"  
  
I looked away from her. "I don't always. I've said a lot of not right things. To Cordy, Wes, Gunn,. you."  
  
Buffy took my hand and held it up to her cheek, caressing my palm with the tips of her fingers. It was a move that I found *very* distracting. "I wouldn't take back anything that you have *ever* said to me."  
  
I licked my lips, which were suddenly very dry. Without thinking I laced my fingers behind her head, bringing her closer. And closer. Closer, until I was rewarded with the feel of her lips against mine.  
  
She groaned and I could feel her soft, sweet hands on my face and through my hair, touching, feeling, and reclaiming.  
  
God she tasted so good. I was like a starving man, drowning, needing to hold on to her to survive. I had spent long months wondering if I would ever be able to touch her like this again. Her lips were soft, and her tongue was gently probing, sending my whole world spinning. She was like vanilla and honeysuckle. She made me soar and feel whole. Alive. She was my sunlight and moonlight all at once.  
  
She was Buffy.  
  
She was Buffy and I was kissing her, and the whole world could have gone to hell in that moment. And I hated it because I knew that I would have to pull back. I knew that all I wanted was to surrender myself to her warmth. It is too easy for me to lose myself in Buffy Anne Summers.  
  
So, I pulled away.  
  
I rested my forehead against hers. Both of us were breathing hard. She, from lack of air, and myself, in the fight for control. I could feel her breath against my face and neck, tickling my skin, slowly driving me out of my mind. I closed my eyes and fought for the control that always seemed to dissipate every time I was around her.  
  
"It's going to be hard." Buffy warned in a hoarse whisper.  
  
"I know," I said softly, hating to break the peace.  
  
"Everything has changed, and, yet, it's all the same."  
  
"We'll get through it."  
  
"It isn't that easy."  
  
"Shhh, it's okay, love. We'll find a way."  
  
Buffy ran her fingers through my hair, another move that tested my amazing self-control. "Aren't you supposed to be the one that never has any faith in our relationship?"  
  
"I told you, I can't let you go again."  
  
"I'm glad."  
  
"We have a lot of healing to do, but-"  
  
"We'll do it together," Buffy finished.  
  
I nodded. "Together."  
  
Buffy leaned against me, fitting her head under my chin as if we were made to go together that way. She looked wearily at her house. "Do I have to go in?"  
  
I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. I wished that there was some way to make all the pain go away for her. She has been through too much for one little girl. And all I could do was be there for her when she needed it. "Yes."  
  
She turned around so that she was gazing deeply into my eyes rather than at her house. "Let's go away together. Far away. We could go to Australia. Live out on the desert, you could sleep all day and hunt for us at night. I could cook the food and keep the house warm."  
  
I ran my fingers up and down her arm and gave a little inward smirk when she gave a little shiver. I loved how she was so responsive to my touch. "Or we could go live in New Guinea by the ocean in a little hut. Instead of hunting, I could fish and we could cook it over a fire on the beach with the other natives."  
  
Buffy smiled dreamily and snuggled down against me. "Jamaica. We could hula dance on the beach and pick coconuts. We could sunbathe in the hot sun and jump in the water when it got too hot."  
  
"Well, I'd be a big pile of dust."  
  
"No. You would be human. And I wouldn't be the slayer. We'd just be too regular Smo Joe's, living boring lives, and sunbathing on the beach."  
  
In that moment I almost told her about my shanshu prophecy. The need to tell her that one day we might be able to do that was strong. I wanted to promise to take her to Jamaica and sunbathe on the beach until we both got sun cancer. But I couldn't. Because if there was one thing that I learned since she died, it was that our futures are uncertain. I can't make a promise to her if I knew I might not be able to keep it.  
  
Buffy fiddled with the buttons of my shirt. "What would you look like in a bathing suit?"  
  
I gave a little chuckle. "That is something that you are *never* going to know." She gave me a delicious pout that just screamed "kiss me!" So, I did.  
  
Damn, we really are going to have to do something about my curse.  
  
When I found that self- control that I seem to be lacking as of late, I pulled away regarding Buffy worriedly. "So, how powerful is Willow *exactly*?"  
  
Buffy gave me an evil look, "Pretty powerful."  
  
"Pretty powerful?"  
  
"Powerful enough to raise the dead, apparently."  
  
"So, you're saying that she might be powerful enough to fix a gypsy curse?"  
  
Buffy regarded me heavily for a moment and then lumbered out of the car. I stared at her retreating back in surprise, wondering what I had said wrong. I watched her lean tiredly against the passenger door, arms folded in concentration over her chest, eyes riveted on her door.  
  
I opened my door and came and stood next to her. Without a word Buffy took my hand and gave it a tight squeeze.  
  
"She's powerful enough to fix a gypsy curse."  
  
I gave Buffy a quick glance, who still seemed so riveted by her house that I was beginning to wonder if she had really talked at all.  
  
"She's lives in my home, she's taking care of my sister, and she took me away from the only true place I've been happy."  
  
"And she's your best friend," I finished heavily.  
  
Buffy narrowed her eyes, "That's what people tell me."  
  
"She only brought you back because of how much she cares about you."  
  
Buffy dropped my hand like it had burned her and whirled on me. "How much she cares about me? If she cared at all, she would know that she had to go on without me! They brought me back because they were selfish. Not because they cared about me."  
  
"Buffy, you know that isn't true-"  
  
"NO! I don't know if that isn't true! I don't know what's true and what isn't! I don't know anything!"  
  
With a cry of despair, Buffy collapsed against me, sobbing. I held her tightly, feeling an incredible urge to kill something, but only rocking her and making shushing noises until she had calmed.  
  
"I'm sorry," she mumbled, "I didn't mean to take that out on you."  
  
I placed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "Don't be. I know it's hard."  
  
Buffy snuggled deeply against me. "I'm so glad that I have you."  
  
I closed my eyes and inhaled her scent, trying hard not to think about the long months that I had been forced to spend without her. "If your friends felt even a tenth of what I felt at seeing you alive, then they care about you."  
  
Buffy closed her eyes. "I know."  
  
"We need to go in there."  
  
"I know."  
  
Neither of us moved.  
  
END  
  
A/N: Hehe, always wanted to do a cliffhanger (. But, geez, now I gotta figure out how to start the next one. 


	3. Death and the Scoobs

Title: Death and Scoobs  
  
Author: Goldy  
  
Disclaimer: Yes there mine. Hehe, just joking. They really aren't, I'm just borrowing em'  
  
Synopsis: Next in what I'm calling the 'Death' series, where Buffy and Angel need to face the scoobies. Hence the title.  
  
Spoilers: Not many in this one. Some for the first two in the series and probably others for S6 and 'The Gift.'  
  
A/N: This one ends in another cliffanger. Don't you all love me? Anyway, I really wanted to get it out before I left for Montreal so I couldn't help it!  
  
A/N 2: This one is done in third person narration, which is different from the other two. I was originally going to do it from Dawn's POV, but there were lots of different conversations I wanted to have.  
  
Feedback: Yes! Feed that monster! Take a break from the turkey and stuffing to write a few kind words. please..  
  
Rating: G  
  
"Did I miss anything?" Dawn passed the new bag of chips that she got from the kitchen to Xander, and plopped down next to him.  
  
Xander opened up the bag without turning away from the window, took a handful and shoved them in his mouth and passed the bag to Anya. "Nope. Still holding hands, and not saying anything."  
  
Anya looked at the chips in disdain. "Do you have any idea how much artificial flavouring goes into these?"  
  
Xander drew his eyes away from the window long enough to glare at Anya. "Yes, but that's what makes this junk food."  
  
Anya shrugged and shoveled a few chips in her mouth and passed the bag to Willow. "You know, they are kind of cute together."  
  
"NO! They are *not* cute. Every time those two get together they put the world in mortal danger." Xander argued.  
  
"I think it's kinda romantic." Dawn offered, with a mouthful of chips.  
  
"And sexy," Anya added.  
  
"Did anyone else not hear the world in mortal danger part?" Xander snapped.  
  
"Oh, look! Movement!" Willow cried excitedly.  
  
"Yeah, Angel's moving his hand.. Ewww!" Xander exclaimed.  
  
Dawn frowned. "Was that with tongue?"  
  
"See! Told you it was sexy."  
  
"Dawn, maybe you should go to bed," Willow said.  
  
"Oh, no way! This is better than American Pie."  
  
"You saw American Pie???" Willow gasped.  
  
"That's a good movie!"  
  
"Xander!"  
  
"But *not* appropriate for someone your age." Xander quickly added.  
  
"Please! Whenever anyone says that something is inappropriate, it's practically an *invitation.*" Dawn muttered huffily.  
  
Anya patted Dawn awkwardly on the shoulder. "Don't worry, that was the *only* movie that Xander took me to this summer."  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"Oh, that helps," Dawn mumbled.  
  
"Guys! They just broke away for air!" Willow cut in forcefully.  
  
Xander, Anya, and Dawn focused their attention back to the street. "Wow, they can really go at it."  
  
"Dawn!"  
  
"Sorry."  
  
Giles came down the stairs to find the foursome still sitting in front of the window watching the couple that had been standing out on the street for the past hour. "Perhaps, it would be wise to leave Buffy and Angel to their own affairs in private."  
  
"Is that slang for mind your own business?" Xander asked.  
  
Giles glared. "Buffy has just been through a very traumatic experience, and Angel may be the only one that can get through to her. What you are doing right now is an incredible betrayal to Buffy."  
  
"He's right," Tara added coming down the stairs behind Giles. "I wouldn't ever want to know that my friends were spying on me. Especially if they had just resurrected me from the dead and I was having a life-changing conversation with the person I loved."  
  
"Yeah, when you put it that way, you guys just don't seem like very good friends."  
  
"Buffy?" Willow's eyes widened when she saw her friend in the doorway with Angel right behind her.  
  
"The one and only," Buffy answered. She glanced over at where her friends and sister were sitting. "So, how was my acting?"  
  
Dawn looked at the ground guiltily, "I'm sorry."  
  
Buffy pursed her lips. "I'm not blaming you."  
  
Xander and Willow exchanged guilty glances. "Sorry, Buffy. We didn't have any right to do that." Xander finally said.  
  
"No, you didn't have any right," Angel cut in forcefully, resting a comforting hand on Buffy's shoulder.  
  
"Yeah, but you never talk to us anymore Buffy. The only way to know what was going on was to watch you!" Willow defended.  
  
"Maybe I don't talk to you because it isn't any of your business." Buffy didn't even blink when Willow gave her a hurt look. "Dawn, I want you to pack your stuff. We're moving out."  
  
"What???" Dawn screeched. "All we did was watch you and Angel get a little smoochie a couple of times! It doesn't mean we need move out!"  
  
"Pack your stuff," Buffy repeated, with a slight edge to her voice. "*Now.*" Dawn glared at her and stomped off up the stairs.  
  
Willow looked at her best friend in shock. "Yeah, Buffy. It's not like we killed you or anything. What's with the moving?"  
  
Angel let out a growl behind Buffy, and she grasped his hand silently saying that she would handle it. "This doesn't have anything to do with what you guys just did."  
  
"Is it because of the money?" Anya asked, "because I still think that if you charged for the slaying, you could pay off your bills *and* still have money left over for weekly food shopping."  
  
"Buffy, have you really thought this through? Do you know where you are going to live? How you're going to buy a new place? How you're going to provide for Dawn?" Xander said, his voice getting louder with each word.  
  
"Maybe you guys should just hear what Buffy has to say," Tara put in, with a glance at Willow.  
  
Buffy closed her eyes, willing the gods to give her strength. She was so tired of this. Always having to face the whole gang with every single decision that she made. This time *they* were the ones that did wrong and *she* was still on the wrong end of the firing squad. But this time she didn't care what they thought. This time it didn't matter what they said. This time things were different.  
  
Gripping Angel's hand like a lifeline, Buffy faced her best friends. "Yes, I've thought this through. I've decided that I can't go on living in Sunnydale. It's a little hard for me walking around the place that I've died. I'm going to sell this house and Dawn and I are going to move to LA," Buffy paused and took a deep breath. "With Angel. I guess, I'll work there with him, but we haven't really gotten past the part where I move in."  
  
There was dead quiet in the Summer's living room as those closest to the slayer digested this information. Finally Giles was the one to break the silence. "If I may, Buffy, I'd like to suggest that you give it a bit more time. I understand that you have been through a traumatic experience, but the slayer is needed here, on the Hellmouth. You could very well be putting the world in grave danger by leaving."  
  
Buffy bit her lip and shook her head. "Giles I can't stay here any longer. It's like you said about England and then coming back. If I stay here any longer, I'm going to kill myself."  
  
"Kill yourself? As in knife through the heart kill or metaphorical kill?" Anya asked.  
  
"When you said you haven't thought past the moving in part, does that mean the moving in with Angel part?" Xander demanded.  
  
"Buffy, how could you do this to me? I finally got you back! Do you have *any* idea what I had to do, to get you back to this world?" Willow yelled.  
  
"Shut up!!!" Buffy shouted. Everyone froze and calmed down. Buffy felt tears spring up in her eyes and she leaned against Angel, who wrapped her up in his arms trying to give her as much strength as possible.  
  
He kissed the top of her head and whispered in her ear, "Do you want me to take it from here?" Buffy gave a little nod and suppressed a sob.  
  
Angel's eyes shot daggers at the group sitting in front of him." How dare you say what you had to give up to get her back," he said bitterly. "Tell me, with all that resurrection magic you had going, did any of you think of seeing whether or not Buffy was in hell? Or were you too intent on getting her back for yourself, that you completely dismissed the idea that for the *first* time in her life she was somewhere where she was *truly* happy? Did you even consider for a moment what it would do to your best friend to be sucked out of heaven?"  
  
There was another shocked silence as the people in the room digested what this new information entailed. "No, we never considered that possibility," Tara finally said softly.  
  
Willow took a step back in surprise. "You. you were in heaven, Buffy?"  
  
Buffy didn't have the strength but to nod, leaning more into Angel's embrace. Giles took a step towards her. "Dear, lord. Buffy I'm so sorry, I never had any idea."  
  
Buffy held out her hand. "Don't. You weren't involved in bringing me back, but don't make things worse."  
  
Giles stepped back with a tortured expression. "Of course."  
  
Buffy bit her lip so hard that she drew blood. "I. I'm going to go talk to Dawn." She turned and ran up the stairs, running as fast as she could away from the confrontation.  
  
Angel found himself left alone with the questioning eyes of Buffy's closest friends. He swallowed painful, not sure whether he should thank them, or rip off their heads for resurrecting Buffy.  
  
Willow sat down against the couch as if she had been flung by an invisible hand. "My god, she must hate me." Willow looked up at Angel, her eyes glassy. "Does she hate me?"  
  
Angel gave her a hard look. He wanted to ask why she was only asking about her self, rather than the state of being of her friend. It was sad to see someone as bright as Willow fall to the temptation of magic. "She doesn't hate you. She's just lost and confused. Give her time." Angel said guardedly.  
  
Willow nodded. "I could do a spell. One that would make her forget where she had been.."  
  
"NO!" everyone in the room immediately cried.  
  
"Willow if you take that away from her, you would be taking away her most cherished memory," Angel explained, trying to keep his voice calm and level. "It might make her miserable, but she wouldn't want to lose it."  
  
"And how do you know her so well suddenly? Where were *you* when she jumped off that tower, huh? You can't just come back two years later and stake a claim on her!" Xander yelled advancing on Angel.  
  
"Now you're mad at me for leaving?" Angel demanded.  
  
"Not mad. I think that it was the best choice that you have ever made. What I *am* mad about is the fact that you have been out of her life for two years and act as if you've been there for everything that she has been through!"  
  
"For someone that *has* been in her life for two years, you certainly don't know her very well at all, or you would have known that someone like Buffy couldn't possibly be in a hell dimension!"  
  
"That's enough!" Giles yelled, taking a step between the two men. Xander and Angel continued to glare at each other, but backed away cautiously. Giles took a deep calming breath. "Angel, may I please speak to you in the kitchen?"  
  
Angel looked at the watcher suspiciously before nodding. He waved towards it, "After you."  
  
Xander, Anya, Willow, and Tara were left alone in the living room. Tara looked at Willow huddled over on the couch. "We shouldn't have done that spell."  
  
Anya cautiously raised her hand. "Can I say something?"  
  
"Not like what I say has ever stopped you before," Willow snapped.  
  
"What are you going to do? Ruin my life like you did Buffy's?"  
  
"Guys, can we concentrate on the big picture here?" Xander asked, annoyed. "Arguing isn't going to get us anywhere."  
  
"Oh, you mean like how you not-argued with Angel?" Willow pointed out with false cheerfulness.  
  
"Everyone, just shut up!" Tara yelled. "Xander's right, arguing isn't going to get us anywhere."  
  
There was moment of silence before Xander said. "You're right, Willow, I shouldn't have taken that out on Angel. I acted before I thought."  
  
Willow sighed and looked at Anya. "What did you want to say?"  
  
Anya glared at her. "Only that we shouldn't be focused on what we did, but on a way to help Buffy."  
  
Xander coughed.  
  
Anya rolled her eyes. "And I'm sorry that I said you ruined Buffy's life. I should have said that *we* ruined Buffy's life."  
  
"Anya's right." Tara said. "Well, at least on the way to help Buffy part."  
  
"Yeah, so anyone have any ideas?" Xander asked.  
  
There was silence.  
  
********************  
  
Buffy found Dawn in her room, sitting on the floor, and leaning against her bed with her arms folded over her chest. Buffy waited in the doorway, waiting to see if Dawn would come out of pout mode, or if she would have to deal with her the way that she found her.  
  
Finally, since it was obvious that Dawn wasn't going to acknowledge her big sis' presence Buffy gave a tentative knock. "Can I come in?"  
  
Dawn didn't say anything.  
  
Buffy sighed. "I'll take that as a yes." Buffy walked into Dawn's room and took a seat next to her on the floor.  
  
"Are you and Angel back together?"  
  
Buffy gave Dawn a quick amused glance. "No. Yes. No. I don't know. Maybe."  
  
"What kind of answer is that?" Dawn said.  
  
Buffy shrugged. "The only one that I know how to give."  
  
"Are we going to live with him?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And you don't know if he's your boyfriend? You know what happens next don't you? He uses you *and* cheats on you, and then says it's because you were never really 'going out.'"  
  
Buffy laughed. "Cause that's *such* an Angel thing to do."  
  
"Will you guys sleep in the same room?"  
  
"Dawn!"  
  
"I just want to know why we need to leave everyone we love if you don't even know why you're going to live with him." Dawn muttered.  
  
"I do know why I'm going to live with him, Dawnie. I love him, and he understands me better than anyone else can. And I need that. I need him to get through this. I don't know if that makes him my boyfriend, but I do know that he still has the happiness clause, and that means we still need to be careful around each other."  
  
Dawn snorted. "Like how you were frenching against his car before?"  
  
Buffy raised her eyebrows. "When did you get so interested in my love life?"  
  
Shrugging Dawn said, "I don't know."  
  
Buffy smiled and fiddled with a lock of Dawn's hair. "I know you've been through so much, Dawn. You lost both me and mom in a short amount of time, and I can't even imagine what it must have been like for you. But I need you now Dawn, please come with me to LA."  
  
Dawn looked down at the floor. "Angel used to make you cry so much. I hated seeing you cry like that, and I never understood why."  
  
"I thought you liked Angel."  
  
"I do like him. I just didn't like seeing him hurt you. Then, when he left, I never understood why, because I thought that true love was supposed to conquer all."  
  
"Maybe it does. Maybe Angel and I are being given a second chance."  
  
"You never cried over Riley. Except when he left."  
  
Buffy looked at her hands. "I know."  
  
"Did you love him?"  
  
"I. I don't know. Not the way I love Angel. And I certainly don't have any feelings for him anymore. It hurt when he left because I didn't understand it, but I think that it's better this way."  
  
"I liked Riley," Dawn said softly. "He was nice to me."  
  
"He really was the perfect guy," Buffy added.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"But not for me."  
  
"I know," Dawn sighed.  
  
"I don't want to move you away from all your friends."  
  
Dawn gave a little smile. "Everyone here thinks I'm some kind of a freak."  
  
"That sounds familiar," Buffy mumbled bitterly. "Want me to beat them up?"  
  
"Okay. I'll pack my stuff."  
  
Buffy smiled. "Thanks."  
  
***************  
  
"I should have known." Giles took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily. "She dropped so many hints."  
  
"You couldn't have known. I didn't, until she told me." Angel protested.  
  
Giles frowned darkly. "No, I should have known what a spell like that would have entailed. Willow can't go around using magic like that without disastrous consequences."  
  
"I don't think we've even seen the worst of it."  
  
"I'm afraid that you may be right."  
  
"I'll take care of her, Giles." Angel said firmly.  
  
"I have no doubt that you will. I just don't know if anyone can."  
  
"I'd do anything if it meant keeping her safe."  
  
Giles sighed. "I know, Angel. I must admit that I'm not thrilled with the fact that you and Buffy will be living together, but perhaps it is for the best. It might be the only to hold on to her."  
  
Angel swallowed hard. "I'll be careful."  
  
"I'm sure you will be."  
  
"But you still don't trust me."  
  
"I trust you, but when it comes to Buffy, you don't always have the best judgment."  
  
"I know. I'm worried that on day I'll wake up and see her. and it will hit me that she is really here and that she's really alive. And that will be enough to. to."  
  
"Give you a true moment of happiness?" Giles finished wearily.  
  
Angel nodded. "But I can't leave her alone now, either."  
  
"No, you can't."  
  
"Hey." Giles and Angel looked up to find Buffy standing in the doorway. She gave them a little smile. "I wasn't listening, don't worry. Angel, can I talk to you?"  
  
"Of course." Angel followed Buffy, who left the house and went to stand on the deck out in front.  
  
Giles watched them go, not bothering to hide the tears that had sprung up in his eyes. Things were as bad as they had ever been for his Sunnydale family, and the worst was yet to come.  
  
**************  
  
Once slayer and vampire were safely outside, and away from preying eyes, Buffy immediately curled up against Angel. He wrapped his arms around her, trying not to think about what he'd said to Giles. He *was* worried that one day just seeing Buffy *would* give him a true moment of happiness.  
  
"Dawn's packing," Buffy informed him.  
  
"What about you? Don't you need to pack?"  
  
Buffy shrugged. "I guess. But I don't really want to. I want to get all new stuff, and just sort of start all over again, you know?"  
  
"Maybe that's how you feel now, but in a couple of years you'll want all of the stuff you left behind. Pictures of your mom, old baby toys, old homework assignments." Angel said.  
  
"Yeah, probably."  
  
"What's wrong?" Angel asked gently.  
  
"I've been thinking about mom a lot lately. I can't help but wonder if she would be proud of me. I think her greatest fear was always that I'd die before her, but she beat me only by a couple of months. And now I'm back. and I don't know what she would think of me." Buffy admitted.  
  
"Buffy your mom loves you and what she *really* wanted was for you to get the most out of life that you possibly could. She just wanted you to be happy, and I don't think that there is anything you could have done that wouldn't make her proud of you."  
  
Buffy sniffled. "You're right, I guess. Although, she was never all that approving of our relationship."  
  
"No, it wasn't that. She wanted you to be in a lasting relationship where you were happy. I couldn't give you that." Angel said.  
  
"And now?"  
  
"Now? I don't know. I don't even know what this is. I just know that I love you and I'm going to be here for you."  
  
"Are you going to use me, cheat on me, and then toss me out on my butt afterwards?"  
  
Angel looked shocked. "Buffy! How could you even think that? I would *never* do that to you."  
  
Buffy sighed in relief and snuggled closer to him. "I know."  
  
"I should hope so," Angel grumbled. "I don't offer my home to just anyone you know."  
  
Buffy giggled and then silenced abruptly. "What are we going to do?"  
  
Angel pressed a kiss to the top of Buffy's head. "The best we can."  
  
****************  
  
There was still complete silence in the Summers' living room when Xander got his idea. He was surprised that no one had thought about it until now. "We want to find a way to make Buffy's life better right? Help her like living again?"  
  
Willow, Tara, and Anya all gave him weird looks. "Yes, that was the *whole* point of this conversation," his fiancee told him. "Weren't you listening?"  
  
"Thank you, hon," Xander snapped. "Anyway, I have an idea." The three girls looked at him expectantly. "Why don't we take out the clause in Angel's curse?"  
  
Willow's eyes widened. "I could do that. It shouldn't be that hard."  
  
Xander nodded. "I mean, after all, we did raise the dead."  
  
"We shouldn't use more magic." Tara protested. "These powers should be left alone."  
  
Willow shook her head. "No, this is exactly what Buffy needs! What kind of friends would we be if we didn't give her this gift?"  
  
"Willow you are using too much magic." Tara warned.  
  
Willow was about to protest when Buffy and Angel came through the front door. Neither of them looked particularly happy, and Willow had a few guesses as to why. But she could fix this problem. Xander stood beside her and Willow smiled gratefully.  
  
Angel looked at Xander wearily, apparently looking to see if he was going to get more animosity from the young man. "Sorry about what I said before," Xander said haltingly. He couldn't really be sorry, but he had talked without thinking and he shouldn't have said some of those things.  
  
"No problem. It's all in the past." Angel said with just as little enthusiasm.  
  
Buffy raised her eyebrows. "What did I miss?"  
  
"A show of male dominance," Anya filled in helpfully.  
  
Buffy nodded. "Gee, so disappointed that I missed it."  
  
Willow took a step forward. "We were talking about what we could do to help you adjust to life again, and Xander thought about fixing the loophole in Angel's curse. I can do that Buffy. I'm way strong enough to fix a little gypsy curse."  
  
Buffy's jaw dropped. "Are you serious? You can fix Angel's curse? That's amazing, Will! Thank you so much!" Buffy surprised Willow with a quick hug. She released her and looked at Angel. "This is so great!"  
  
Angel looked away. "Thank you Willow and. Xander. I can't tell you how much this means to me, but I can't let you do that."  
  
Buffy stared at him in shock. "You're just joking right? You're not actually considering not taking this, are you? Angel, this is the answer to all of our problems."  
  
"I know." Angel said gravely looking away from her.  
  
"Then, why?"  
  
"It's too easy this way, Buffy. I can't just take this."  
  
"Yes, you can."  
  
"NO!" Angel yelled.  
  
Buffy backed up and shook her head. "I can't believe this." Without another word the slayer turned and fled off into the night.  
  
TBC 


	4. No Death In Forever

Title: No Death In Forever  
  
Author: Goldy  
  
Disclaimer: Ack! Do you really think that I would have to write a fanfic about this if they belonged to me? Sheesh!  
  
Synopsis: Next in my little 'Death' series after Buffy ran away. There isn't much I can say without giving anything away, but Buffy and Angel have a few "issues" to work out.  
  
A/N: This is my first time writing Spike, so please forgive me if it's horrible! Oh, and it starts out kinda on the angsty side, but I promise that if you keep going B/A mush ensues!  
  
A/N2: Another third person one. I was originally thinking about doing Buffy again, but then I wrote about half of it from third person, so.  
  
A/N3: sorry, this is the last, I swear. I have no idea what kind of tree Buffy and Angel sat under at her mother's funeral, so I'm going to say that it was a maple. And another thing, I don't know what Joyce's gravestone said, so I made it up.  
  
Rating: I don't know, PG or G  
  
Feedback: I'll beg if that's what you want.  
  
Buffy was running. Her feet pounded against the cement and her breathing was labored. Still, she pushed on, driving her slayer muscles as fast as they would carry her. She had to keep going. She needed to be far enough away. Far enough away from him. Far enough, so that he couldn't find her.  
  
Buffy collapsed against the ground when her legs gave out. Fighting to breath normally, she realized that she'd ended up in a cemetery. Ironic. The name Buffy and the word cemetery always seemed to end up in the same sentence.  
  
Since the running had stopped, and the breathing had slowed, Buffy's mind began to work again. Things started coming back to her. Doubts and worries. Betrayal and heartbreak.  
  
'Why didn't he want it?' Buffy thought. 'Why doesn't he want me?'  
  
The same thought kept going through her mind over and over again, no matter how irrational it was. The same thing had happened when he had left her, she had wondered for months-years-why he had left.  
  
But, now, when the biggest barrier standing in the way could be gone, he didn't want it. And Buffy couldn't help but think that she was where the blame lay.  
  
She wasn't sure how long she stayed in the cemetery. After a while Buffy realized that her face was wet, and that she had been crying, but it was all very surreal. She wasn't really here in this graveyard. She was at home, by the fire, with the man of her dreams reading poetry in a language that she didn't understand, but was beautiful anyway.  
  
Half of her was screaming out for Angel to find her, like he always managed to do. Then, he would hold her in his arms and promise that everything was going to be okay. He would tell her that Willow's offer had just confused him, and that all that he wanted was to be with her like that.  
  
And half of her dreaded that he would find her, because when he did, he would have a nice rational reason for why he couldn't take the gift that Willow was offering. Either because he had to find his reward on his own, or because it was too easy. His reasoning would make perfect sense, and he would state it calmly and surely.  
  
And all the while Buffy would be thinking, 'is it me?'  
  
Buffy leaned back against a headstone and surveyed her surroundings wearily. It was only then when she realized exactly what cemetery she had run into. Straight across from her was a big maple tree with a large trunk, and Buffy didn't have to turn her head to know what grave lay only a few meters away.  
  
Buffy felt a fresh bash of tears coming on. Using her hands and knees, she crawled the last few feet to her mother. There it was. The grave that her dead mother lay in. Buffy let out a loud sob, and lay down on the ground next to it.  
  
"Mommy, I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I wish that I could do this without you. But I can't. I was the slayer, but you were always the strong one. I want him to be able to do everything for me mom, but he can't. He doesn't even want me.." Buffy choked on another sob, and reached out trembling fingers to brush the inscription on the grave stone. 'Joyce Summers' it read. 'Beloved friend and mother.'  
  
Buffy's vision became a blur of dirt and tears. "I don't know what to do, mom. I don't know how to act around my friends, I don't know how to take care of Dawn, and I don't know how to get a job. I thought he would make it all better. but he can't. and I don't think anyone can."  
  
Buffy picked herself up from the ground and walked with her shoulders slumped and her head down to "that" tree. She stared at it with wide eyes as the memory went through her head. Sitting there, telling him about her life and her troubles, letting him make it better, even if it was just for a while. Just a little while.  
  
Buffy felt her sixth sense tingle and she spun around when she felt movement behind her. The vampire took a long puff of his cigar, before dropping it and putting it out elegantly with the tip of his boot. "Spike."  
  
He gave her a smirk. "Who else were you expecting?"  
  
"Get out of here," Buffy snapped, not wanting him to see how upset and mentally weak she was.  
  
He held up his hands. "It isn't safe for a girl like you to be in the cemetery at this time of night."  
  
Buffy folded her arms over her chest. "Go. Away."  
  
Spike gave her the once over, spending way too much time looking at places that he shouldn't. "You look like something the cat just dragged in."  
  
"Why are you still here?"  
  
"Hey, I'm just concerned is all! You okay, luv?"  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes. "I will be as soon as you leave!"  
  
Spike sauntered up to her and Buffy frowned, nervously moving back a couple of steps. "You don't really mean that."  
  
"Yes, I do. I mean it a lot."  
  
"You need me, pet."  
  
Buffy shook her head, "No, no I don't."  
  
Suddenly Spike stopped his advancing and reeled back in disgust. "Bleedin' hell! You smell like my bloody grand sire!"  
  
"You can smell that?"  
  
"Damn right I can smell him! The poof as well as made me! So, that's it then? Soulboy's back in town and you hop into his train?"  
  
Spike was coming closer with his fists bawled and Buffy surprised herself by taking another step back. She felt the tiniest bit of fear at seeing Spike all riled up. She gave a little gasp when her boot got caught on a root and she stumbled and fell butt down in a mud puddle.  
  
Spike closed the distance between them and stood towering over her. "Look at you. all lost and alone. No friends .. Where is the poofter now? Did he finally realize that you weren't worth all the trouble and turned you down?"  
  
Buffy closed her eyes and willed herself to get up and fight Spike. He couldn't hurt her because of the chip, but she almost found herself wishing that she could let him.. No, she wasn't going to wish for things that weren't possible.  
  
Buffy jumped almost a mile when she heard a ferocious growl behind her, and then, a dark figured tackled Spike and pinned him against a tree. Buffy held her breath as she watched Angel, full game face on, punch Spike viciously. "Stay. Away. From. Her."  
  
Spike eyes widened in fear when he realized that he had just been caught attacking his grandsire's mate. Still that didn't prevent him from teasing the old guy a little. "You mean like you did for two years? Need I remind you that it was *I* that fought along side her for two years and it was *I* that was there when she jumped off that bloody tower!"  
  
Angel growled and threw Spike on the ground. He executed a quick sharp kick to his childe's stomach, which left Spike coughing and writhing on the ground. Angel held out a stake so that Spike could see it. "If you *ever* come near her again, I'll kill you."  
  
Spike closed his eyes and choked up blood. "I love her. Yeah, that's right, mate! I, William the Bloody, fell in love with the bleedin' slayer!"  
  
Angel looked at Spike rolling around pathetically on the ground and found some small measure of sympathy in his heart. "I should rip of your head for saying that," Angel tossed the stake back and forth in his hands. "Leave. And don't come back."  
  
Spike took one look at his grandsire and knew that he was serious. He forced himself to a standing position and to walk away.  
  
When Angel was satisfied that Spike wasn't going to cause anymore problems, he turned back to where he had last seen his slayer. She was in the same place, but facing the opposite direction. She was sitting in a ball with her legs pulled up to her chest. He noted the way that her bottom lip was trembling in time with the rest of her body. She was staring intently at a spot in front of her. Angel followed her gaze to find a maple tree.  
  
He felt his cold dead heart seize up in his chest. He cursed himself for his gruff behavior towards her before and not finding her earlier. He cursed his grandchilde, who seemed to have made things worse for her. And he cursed Willow for putting them in this position to begin with.  
  
He walked up behind her, kneeling himself down on the ground so he was level with her. "Buffy?" She didn't say anything and continued staring ahead. Angel sighed and took off his jacket, wrapping it around her muddy shoulders.  
  
"I couldn't fight him," she whispered.  
  
Angel clenched his jaw, already regretting letting Spike get away. "I know."  
  
She shrugged. "Thanks for saving me. Again."  
  
Angel thought about all the times that he hadn't saved her, but he kept his mouth shut knowing that they had more important things to discuss. He tried to take her hand, but she flinched away from his touch and looked away from him. "Buffy.."  
  
"Don't, start. Look, you made your decision. You don't want to be with me. Fine. But don't make things harder."  
  
Angel looked at her in shock. "How can you even think that? Of course I want to be with you! All I've ever wanted was to be able to be with you!!!"  
  
Buffy turned and looked him straight in the eyes. "Yeah? Then, why didn't you act on any of them??? First you left me, and then you picked being a vampire over being with me, and then you turned down a chance at taking out the happiness clause!"  
  
Angel did a double take. "What. what did you say?"  
  
"You heard me," Buffy said bitterly. "Remember how I said some things were fading from being in heaven? That's one of them. Sometimes I think that all that day was is part of my imagination. Every day it keeps getting further and further away from my mind, but I do remember knowing in heaven that you were human at one point and we could be a normal couple and you. gave it up."  
  
"To save *you,*" Angel added.  
  
Buffy snorted. "And look at all the good *that* did."  
  
"Buffy don't be this way."  
  
"What way? The way I get when the one person I thought loved me, turned down the thing that we *need* to make this relationship work?"  
  
"What, you think that this is easy on me? Do you have any idea how much I wanted to say yes to Willow and make all of our problems disappear? I had you just in reach, and I turned it down!" Angel stood up and glared down at her, his earlier concern replaced by some anger.  
  
Buffy looked at him angrily, and then her resolve seemed to weaken and she buried her head in her arms and sobbed. Angel watched in horror as her whole body convulsed with heavy sobs. He felt his earlier anger disappear as quickly as it had come, replaced by a bone-deep guilt.  
  
Angel got down on his hand and knees and pulled Buffy gently against him. She went without much of a fight, and continued crying against Angel's chest as he caressed her back and rained kisses in her air, whispering words of comfort.  
  
"I don't know," she mumbled against him, "I don't know how you felt. All I knew is that you didn't want me."  
  
Angel grabbed her chin and forced her tear-streaked face up so he could look her in the eyes. "I want you. Every single minute of every single day. But we couldn't have taken the easy way out. I need to earn this reward, the consequences of letting Willow fool with magic this large, could be deadly. And I'm not willing to risk that."  
  
Buffy sniffed. "She brought me back from the dead."  
  
"And look how that turned out. No matter how much I want it. taking the easy way out isn't the answer."  
  
Buffy shook her head. "But don't you see? It isn't the easy way out! We've waited so long for this. We were apart for more than two years. I died, Angel. Getting this wasn't easy. I don't care how simple it would be for Willow to cast this spell, it was hard to get here."  
  
Angel pressed a kiss to Buffy's forehead. "I have a bad feeling about this."  
  
"Weren't you the one that was asking about Willow and her magic just a few hours ago? Didn't you want to know what she could do?"  
  
Angel smiled thinly. "Maybe. But that was before I saw her. Buffy, Willow is treading on the brink of something that she can't control. It wouldn't be fair for us to make that worse for her."  
  
Buffy looked away. "I don't care. She owes me this."  
  
"Now you're just being selfish."  
  
"*Sure,* take *her* side."  
  
Angel could feel Buffy physically withdraw from him and he gave a silent sigh. She really knew how to make things as hard as possible. "Buffy, that isn't fair."  
  
Buffy moved away, and stood up. "Whatever. Think what you want, I don't care."  
  
Angel sighed. "Buffy, stop being so disagreeable."  
  
Buffy turned her back on him. "I'm not the one being disagreeable," she said so softly, that Angel had trouble hearing her words even with his vampire hearing. "You're the one that won't take this. It isn't too easy, Angel. You're just scared. That's the real reason that you won't take it."  
  
Buffy forced herself to walk away from him without looking back, no matter how much it hurt. She gasped in surprise when he grabbed her arm and forced her around to face him. "Great, so that's it? You blame everything on me and then just walk away? Becoming quite a habit for you isn't it? I won't take Willow's offer, and you run away. I explain to you why, and you walk away."  
  
Buffy ripped herself away from his grip and stumbled backwards. "What about you, huh? You were the one that left *me* in the first place!"  
  
"You promised you wouldn't forget! And then you walked away!!!" As soon as the words had left his mouth, Angel instantly regretted them.  
  
Buffy's face crumbled in pain, and she turned away from him so he couldn't see how much his remark had stung. "Get away from me."  
  
Angel took a step forward. "Buffy."  
  
Buffy whirled around and regarded him dangerously. "Go. Away." She hissed through clenched teeth.  
  
"Buffy, stop this! We can't walk away from this. We need to talk about it."  
  
"We don't *need* to talk about anything. And I can do the walking away thing." Buffy walked past him, "Look! I'm doing it right now! See? It's easy."  
  
Angel regarded Buffy's back helplessly. "Buffy wait! Please." Buffy pretended not to hear him and kept walking. "FINE!" Angel yelled. "YOU WERE RIGHT! I AM SCARED! PETRIFIED! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO HAVE A DEMON LIVING INSIDE OF YOU!" Angel felt his resolve weakening and he closed his eyes in pain. "You don't have to live with the fear of hurting the people you love if something goes wrong."  
  
Buffy stopped dead in her tracks at the sound of Angel's voice. She bit her lip, cursing herself for being a selfish bitch. She walked slowly back to him, keeping her eyes on his face the whole time, but he refused to look at her. "Angel, I'm sorry. I don't really know what to say."  
  
"I think you've said enough," he said flippantly.  
  
Buffy sighed. "You're right."  
  
Angel finally looked at her. "It wasn't just you."  
  
Buffy nodded. "It wasn't. You could have just told the truth."  
  
"I couldn't.. I didn't even fully believe it until you mentioned it. I didn't want to sound petty."  
  
Buffy took his hand. "Angel, it's me. Buffy. You can tell me anything."  
  
Angel looked at their entwined hands and took a deep breath. "I can't bear the thought that Willow might not have a complete handle on the spell. I can't leave you the way that you are now, Buffy. Would you be able to survive it if Angelus was set lose?"  
  
"So, I guess the question is," Buffy said softly, "is it worth the risk?"  
  
"Nothing is worth the risk of Angelus being set free."  
  
"Not even me?"  
  
Angel looked at Buffy seriously. "*Especially* you."  
  
"But, Angel, there are ways to do this safely. We can chain you up, and if the spell doesn't go right, Willow can always curse you again." Buffy protested.  
  
"Magic isn't something to play with. A soul isn't something that can just be given or taken away at will. If it were that easy, the world would be a lot different. If the spell doesn't got the way that we want it to, I won't be coming back."  
  
Buffy bit her lip and tried to keep the tears at bay. "But it *is* worth the risk, Angel! Don't you see? *You're* the only thing keeping me alive and sane. You're right that if I lost you than I wouldn't be able to go on, but if it worked. let's just say that true happiness would definitely be around that bend."  
  
"Buffy," Angel whispered his voice cracking a little, "don't do this."  
  
"Do you love me?" She asked suddenly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Do you?"  
  
Angel gave a small smile, apparently reliving another time, just like she was. A time when their problems had been so much smaller, and things were as easy as they had ever been between them. "I love you."  
  
Buffy licked her lips. "And do you trust me?"  
  
Angel smirked. "This might be a little bit of a change from our original dialogue, but. I trust you. Completely. Totally. I'd kill myself if you told me to."  
  
Buffy looked away, remembering a more painful time when he had done just that. Close you eyes.  
  
"This is where you tell me that if I trust you, I'd take Willow's offer, right?" Angel mumbled.  
  
Buffy snapped out of her reverie and nodded. "Unlike some people, I have a good feeling about it. A feeling that you should trust."  
  
Angel took a deep breath. "I trust it."  
  
"Good."  
  
"But we aren't going to just go and do this. We're going to take a long time looking for a spell. And we're going to research every possible aspect of it, until we know that absolutely *nothing* can go wrong," Angel said firmly.  
  
Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her muddy body firmly against his. "Every precaution. Soul magic isn't something that you can just mess with."  
  
"Funny, because I know this little blonde girl, and she always manages to put my soul in danger."  
  
Buffy leaned her head up. "Really? Who is this girl?"  
  
Angel brought his face down to meet hers. "You actually know her quite well," he mumbled before pressing his lips to hers in a searing kiss.  
  
When they pulled away, Buffy took Angel's hand and led him to a maple tree. She sat him down and snuggled into his embrace. "Thanks for saving me from Spike by the way. It was very macho of you."  
  
Angel grumbled something under his breath, and Buffy could only make out a few words such as 'respect for their elders' and 'how dare his childe touch *his* mate.' Finally, after much muttering and even some swearing, Angel held Buffy tighter as if to warn others to stay away from her.  
  
"And the jacket, too. This is what? Like the 10th one I've gotten from you? Should I start giving them back?"  
  
Angel ran his hand around the base of her neck, smirking when Buffy shivered under his touch. "Mmm, I don't know," Angel mumbled, replacing his hand with his lips.  
  
"Angel! Stop!" Buffy cried. "This is bad! Your soul isn't permanent just yet."  
  
Angel gave one last nip to the bottom of Buffy's ear and whispered, "Keep them."  
  
Buffy leaned back and sighed. "Happy to."  
  
Angel frowned and looked at the sky. "You know, I hate to say this, but. sunrise is coming."  
  
Buffy closed her eyes. "You should probably get inside."  
  
"No. before we do, I want to get something right."  
  
Buffy turned around to face him. "What?"  
  
Angel gave her a thin smile. "I'll stay as long as you need me."  
  
Buffy gulped. "How about forever? Does forever work for you?"  
  
Angel lovingly pushed a lock of her hair behind her ears. He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to her lips.  
  
"Eternity wouldn't be enough time."  
  
The End!  
  
A/N: Stay tuned for the next in the series! 


	5. No More Death

Title: No more Death  
  
Author: Goldy  
  
Email: thegoldoneb_a@hotmail.com  
  
Disclaimer: Joss owns all. I own nothing.  
  
Synopsis: More angst and woe! What fun!  
  
A/N: From Buffy's POV again  
  
Dedication: To Jennem for being so supportive, and to all other B/Aers out there. I know times are tough, but keep the faith!  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Angel's soul. Angel's soul is going to be bound. No more Angelus. Ever. Finito. Gone. He's always going to be Angel and I. I can be with him. In the way that has haunted my dreams for three years.  
  
I glance over at him, quickly, hoping that he doesn't notice. But he does. Of course he does. He always does. He's always aware of me. He even said that he felt something go through him when I died, and that when he saw Willow. he just knew.  
  
Angel smiles at me. Reassuring. Ready to be comfort guy at any notice, like he's always been so good at. I smile back. And I know, in that moment, that everything will be okay. We've been given a gift that most people never get. We've been given a second chance, and neither of us are going to let it go.  
  
We walk back to the house slowly, despite the coming sunrise. Our hands are joined tightly together, so tight that I'm afraid that I might be crushing some of his bones. But he doesn't mind, and he's holding my hand just as tightly.  
  
I have a bittersweet memory of a year when we were afraid to do anything more than holding hands, for fear that the moment would get out of hand. Now, it soon won't matter. Angel told me that he was afraid of Willow and her magic, but I think that the only thing to be afraid of would be not taking this chance.  
  
Our second chance.  
  
Or, possibly, our third or fourth chance. It doesn't really matter. Just as long as it's here. We're on my street again and I wonder if we'll stay outside the house, staring as long as we did last time. Of course, if we took that long, Angel would end up being brought inside in a dustpan.  
  
I can see the first light on the horizon and so I boldly walk up to the door. My door. It's *my* door. *My* house.  
  
And it will feel so good to get rid of it.  
  
Angel leads me inside, never letting go of my hand. As soon as we pass the threshold, we're met with angry glances and questioning eyes. I let out a snort. Right. My house. Biggest joke of the year.  
  
"What have you guys been doing???" Xander demands. I don't even glance at him. Of all my friends, he's the one that has changed the least. Right now, I'm not sure whether or not this is a good thing. Although, I suppose that it doesn't really matter. Most of my friends are like strangers to me.  
  
But I still love them.  
  
I survey the room tiredly. Willow and Dawn are sitting on the couch, and Dawn is asleep against Willow's shoulder. I feel a pang in my stomach. Dawn shouldn't be up. She should be asleep dreaming about boys. She shouldn't have to deal with things like dead sisters, and their equally dead boyfriends.  
  
Tara is propped up against Willow's knees on the floor, eyes fluttering. I look around for Giles, since he is the only one that I'm not afraid to be around. I'm surprised to see him in a corner talking to. Anya???  
  
I blink a couple of times in rapid succession, hoping that my eyes are deceiving me. But no. They are still in the corner. They are still talking in the corner. Anya *and* Giles are having a serious conversation in the corner of my living room.  
  
I look at Angel questioningly. He raises his eyebrows at me. I sigh. Men. Jeez, could my distress at seeing Giles and Anya talking be any more obvious??? I roll my eyes, and decide that this situation cannot go on any longer. When Giles starts having conversations with ex-demons, than you *know* something seriously bad has happened.  
  
I stomp right up to Xander so I'm looking right into his face. "We've been screwing each other in a mud puddle, Xander. *What* *else* could we *possibly* be doing?" Xander nervously took a step back. Good. People can still give me respect when I want it. "I appreciate you coming up with the idea of bounding Angel's soul, but DON'T EVER OPEN YOUR MOUTH TO ME LIKE THAT AGAIN WITHOUT THINKING FIRST!!!"  
  
Xander opens his mouth to protest, but I cut him off by holding up one hand and shooting him a glare. He wisely closes his mouth and shuts up. I nod, satisfied thus far. But I'm not done yet. I walk over to where Dawn and Willow are sitting. "DAWN SUMMERS!!!" I yell so load that she springs awake, jumping so high that she nearly lands on the ceiling. "Why aren't you in bed? Do you have *any* idea what time it is? I'd of thought you would be old enough to put your own self to bed!"  
  
"But, Buffy. I."  
  
"BED! NOW!" Behold my success, Dawn bolts up the stairs, although, not without sending me a 'I'm going to go up and pout for hours' glare. Quite frankly, I don't care. She shouldn't be up at this time of night-morning.  
  
Willow tries next. "Buffy, I realize that Dawn shouldn't be up at this time. but don't you think that these are special circumstances?"  
  
I snort. "This is Sunnydale. There are *always* special circumstances."  
  
She stands up now. Oh, right, like that will make me see her point better. "Buffy. that isn't fair! You know that this can't be easy on Dawn!"  
  
I bite my lip to keep from laughing. Right. *This* isn't easy on Dawn. Finding out that she was the key wasn't easy on Dawn. Losing her mother and her sister within four months wasn't easy on Dawn. Dealing with my shit. is *me* dealing with my shit.  
  
"Get out," I finally say. Willow looks shocked. Fine. I don't care. "Get out of my house," I repeat when she still doesn't move. Willow blinks back tears, and I feel no guilt. Maybe later I will, but not now. Now, she needs to go.  
  
"Buffy." she croaks out finally.  
  
"What? You think you can say you'll bind Angel's soul and everything will be all fine and dandy? News flash, Will: it doesn't work that way."  
  
Xander steps forward. "You seemed pretty forgiving when she first told you about it."  
  
I whirl on him. "Didn't I tell you to think before you talk?"  
  
Xander gives a small snort. "I don't think I'm the only one that needs to think before they talk. Why don't I get some cheap shots in a Willow since I'm here? You know, just like you're hurting her and all."  
  
"Xander. Shut. Your. Mouth. You don't know what hurting is, Xander. Next time you get ripped out of heaven, come and talk to me."  
  
He actually dares to take a step closer to me. "Fine, Buffy, you were in heaven. I get that. It was painful, blah, blah, blah, but GET OVER IT!!!"  
  
I don't want to let it, but they cut. His words cut deep. I hate my friends, and all that they did to me, but I love them so much and only want their approval. understanding. And they hurt. And I don't show it. I can't. By showing it, I won't be able to be strong. and being strong is all I have left to hold on to.  
  
And then Angel moves supportingly behind me and I realize that being strong is no longer the *only* thing I have to hold on to.  
  
New strength flows through me. I stand my ground against Xander, never letting the hurt show, never letting the human out. I leave the slayer, standing tall, erect, and firm. He shrinks back and I don't even have to say anything. Satisfied, I turn back to Willow.  
  
All attention is on me. Tara is standing beside Willow and Giles and Anya are watching me guardedly from their place across the room. "Why are you still here?"  
  
Tara raises her chin, "Buffy, this is madness! Don't be this way."  
  
I glare at her. "Be what way?" I ask sweetly. Daring her to argue with me.  
  
But she doesn't. Something makes her turn away. Maybe it's the dangerous gleam in my eyes, or my ridged, posed for a strike position, or maybe she saw that I was finally Buffy again and that I needed to do this. Whatever it was, it made her turn. "Willow, let's go."  
  
Willow looks at me helplessly. Then, when she knows that nothing is going to make me change my mind, she looks over my shoulder. At Angel. "Please.." she begs.  
  
I feel myself stiffen and I curse inwardly. Damn it. No emotion. Must be strong. No emotions. I turn slowly, facing him. My strength, my love, my life. If he told me to stop this insanity and apologize to Willow I know that I would. And he knows I would. And he's hesitating, which means he's thinking about telling me to do just that.  
  
"Yeah, Angel," I spit, saucily. "Please. why don't you tell me to get over myself, too?"  
  
Angel regards me guardedly, stoically. Not giving anything away, not letting his emotions command him, like they do over me. Never taking his eyes off me he says, "Willow. I think that it would be best if you left. Xander, too."  
  
I regard him through heavy lids. Finally, I nod my approval and turn back to Willow and Tara who are making their way out the door. I give a fleeting thought to where they might go, but then realize that I don't really care. It will probably be Xander's anyway.  
  
Xander looks at Anya, who is still standing next to Giles. And that is *still* creeping me out. "Honey, I'm thinking that Buffy doesn't want you around either."  
  
Anya snorts. "Just wait till she finds out that Giles is going back to England."  
  
Xander's eyebrows tick to me in a daring glance, before he runs across the room and grabs Anya. He drags her out the door and I realize that I'm finally back in charge of my own home. Giles looks at me guiltily and I smile thinly. He has nothing to feel guilty about. Really, he doesn't. Why should I care if he goes back to England?  
  
"Buffy.." He says taking a step closer.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I think that now that you and Angel are going to be. living together, there isn't any reason for me to stick around. You're a grown women, and you can take care of yourself as your proved tonight."  
  
I shrug. "You don't have to make excuses. Go back to stinky England. See what I care."  
  
"Buffy," Giles sighs, "I have so much faith in you."  
  
I feel my legs get wobbly so I sit. That's funny, now I notice that they're shaking a little, too. I wonder why. "I know." Giles looks at me in worry and I don't know why. Cautiously he approaches the couch as if he's afraid to sit down next to me. "Just sit already!" I snap finally.  
  
Giles gives a thin smile, "Are you going to kick me out?"  
  
Despite a soul-deep hurt I manage to give a little chuckle. "I'm not planning on it."  
  
Giles sits.  
  
"When?" I ask.  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
"When are you going to leave?"  
  
Giles looks away. "As soon as I can get a flight."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Buffy, I'm sorry."  
  
I hold up my hand. "Don't. You wanna leave me? Fine. Leave me. It's a popular thing to do."  
  
Giles flinches. "Buffy, that is isn't true. You. you are like a daughter to me."  
  
"Then stay." I beg. I don't mean to, and I don't know how it happened. I can hear the pain in my words, and it sounds so foreign to my ears. Who is this girl? What am I saying?  
  
"I can't," Giles gulps.  
  
I look down. The floor. Spinning. Rocking out of control. Nothing is here, everything is there. "No one can."  
  
I feel Gile's hand on my shoulder. And then he pulls me. A hug. He is hugging me. And then he is gone. I don't know where, but he isn't here. Nothing is here. I am alone.  
  
Control. Spinning. Breaking. No control.  
  
The first tears come. Coming from my eyes, quickly, burning, hot, salty. There is a hand. I flinch and move away. What is a hand doing here? Nothing is here. Everything has left me.  
  
The sobs come hiccuping out of me, exploding like a volcano waiting for 100 years. More pulling. A chest. Cool hands, stroking me, calming me. Comforting words in my ear. Kisses in my hair. Safety.  
  
"Angel, Angel, Angel, Angel." I sob incessantly, incoherently, but knowing he was here.  
  
"Shhh," he murmurs, like a cool wind in my ear.  
  
I sob harder. Somehow knowing he is here and he cares. makes it more painful. The harsh words I said to him before come back to me, and I'm sorry. But I can't tell him because I'm babbling, and the tears won't stop. And the words get stuck in my throat. I want to tell him that I love him, and that I need him more than I need anything in this world, that he *is* my world, but the words get stuck in my throat.  
  
Then, he is lifting me and I'm moving. Gently, he lowers me on a bed. My bed. In *my* house. The house that I've just reclaimed. Somehow that thought doesn't help, but the tears slow anyway. Maybe they slow because I realize I have nothing left. Nothing left to cry for. Empty.  
  
Or maybe it's because of the man tending to me. Wiping my nose and eyes, holding me, whispering to me. Loving me.  
  
Slowly I relax, and my sobs fade to gentle hiccuping. He holds me pressed tightly against him, and, still, I can't find the words to tell him all that I feel. I don't even think there are words to describe what he is to me.  
  
"Sleep," he whispers to me.  
  
His words remind me of my heavy and crusty eyelids, and the fact that I've been awake the whole night. I can feel the darkness pressing down on me, calling for the sweet release of sleep. But I can't. I need to tell him.  
  
"Angel." I manage to croak out.  
  
He looks at me expectant. "I."my throat clogs over with fresh tears. "I need.."  
  
Angel wraps his arms around me, holding me so tight that I can barely breathe. But I'm so happy to drown in him, safe and protected. "I'm right here," he reassures me quickly. "I won't leave."  
  
It's enough for now. I close my eyes and let sleep claim me, falling into its steady rhythm.  
  
****  
  
Pictures that don't make any sense, and that I won't ever remember go by me, eventually leading me to one place. A long river, rushing and flowing over it's bank, bursting with life. I follow it. The river is long, but I follow, knowing that what's at the end is well worth the wait. Finally, after long winding paths and sharp turns it leaves me at a hill. I walk up the hill slowly, enjoying the grass under my feet and the night air around me.  
  
The hill keeps getting longer, and soon it is a small mountain. I hurry, I don't want to miss what's at the top. But the paths are tricky and the terrain is ruff, and I push on. I can see the top, just out of reach and I start running, knowing that it's almost here.  
  
I can see it now. A dark shadow, blending in with the night and surrounding darkness. I'm so close. My feet hurt from sharp twigs and stick, and my legs ache with the force of my run, but soon none of that will matter.  
  
And then I make it.  
  
I look at the dark shadow, blending in so well with the night. "I know you're here."  
  
"It's almost time," it answers.  
  
I look at the sky; the moon and the stars that dot the horizon start to fade. "I know."  
  
The first rays of light creep its way over the valley. I see the beginnings of the river that I followed, sparkling and dancing in the sun's hot rays. Tree's and flowers are revealed, the green lighting up the valley so far below me. Colours of pink and purple etch their way across the sky, and I sigh in happiness.  
  
Warm arms wrap around me, and I lean back. "It's beautiful," he whispers in my ear in awe.  
  
I press my ear over his heart. I can feel the steady beat echoing in my ear and reverberating through my body. I can feel his soul, tied closely to mine, and I know that we are bonded together for eternity.  
  
"No. It's heaven."  
  
****  
  
Back in my room, a smile touches my features, and for however brief a period, I know true happiness again.  
  
****  
  
My eyes flutter open, and they land on his angelic face, still deep in the throws of sleep. My dream comes back to me and I can't help but wonder if he got to experience it, too. I hope he does, because if by any small chance, it's foretelling the future then he deserves to know.  
  
I stretch, being as quiet as possible, so I don't wake the sleeping vampire curled next to me. I feel the dried salt of tears clinging to my cheeks, and I frown, already worried about Angel seeing me like this. Of course, after what he saw last night, I don't think that there is much I can do to scare him away.  
  
My thoughts return to the dream. If this is the powers way of keeping me sane, than it is a very cruel thing to do. Just the thought that Angel and I might be able to experience that is enough to make me want to get out of bed in the morning. If I have that to look forward to in life, than it makes it worth living again.  
  
Angel stirs next to me and I smile fondly, feeling better than I have in a long time. I know that there is going to be hell to pay when I try and reconcile with my friends, but for now I feel cleansed and I'm happy to bask in that glow. Maybe I was a little over the top last night, but.. I needed to do that. I'm tired of people running my life for me.  
  
I feel a quick pang when I remember the words that I said to them. It will be hard asking for forgiveness, but first I'm going to have to fully forgive them for bringing me back. Angel's eyes flutter open and land on me, smiling lazily.  
  
Maybe it won't be too hard to forgive them, after all.  
  
I smile cautiously, remembering my own behavior towards Angel. "Angel, about last night.. I."  
  
Angel puts a finger to my lips, stopping my apology. He pulls me against him, and I go, eagerly seeking the comfort that only his arms hold for me. "Why don't we just start with good morning?"  
  
I glance at the clock. "Good evening."  
  
He smiles thinly. "Fair enough."  
  
Suddenly, I spring up. "Dawn!" I shriek, "I never sent her to school!"  
  
"Relax," Angel says calmly, "it's the weekend."  
  
"Oh. Right." I mutter sheepishly, leaning down into his embrace again. "Although, I should be up taking care of her. I threw out Willow last night for telling me how to look after Dawn, and here I am, not even looking after her."  
  
"You needed your sleep." Angel states simply, "Besides I checked on her a little while ago. She was just getting up, and I think she's down watching TV."  
  
I sigh, thinking about how Angel was the one comforting me again. "About last night. I'm really sorry."  
  
"You don't have anything to apologize for, Buffy."  
  
"I do. I shouldn't have lost it like that.. I shouldn't have taken it out on you and let you pick up the pieces."  
  
Angel regards me seriously. "You don't have to apologize to me," he says firmly.  
  
I nod, believing him. Angel was always really good at forgiving me. I can't even count the amount of times that I've taken my problems out on him. I close my eyes, also knowing, once again, what it feels like to be loved by someone unconditionally.  
  
"Do you think my friends will ever forgive me?" I ask, weakly.  
  
"Can you forgive them?"  
  
"Hey! No fair answering my question with a question!" Angel just looks at me, and I groan, thinking about how he had just echoed my own thoughts. "I can forgive them."  
  
Angel nods. "You have your answer."  
  
I sigh, painfully. "Yeah, I guess I do. Do you think they'll still bind your soul?"  
  
"I think they'd do anything you asked them to," Angel answers wisely.  
  
I'm quiet. The powers certainly did a good job with their dream. Amazing how different the world looks. I slide off the bed, and give Angel a quick kiss. "Shower time."  
  
He gives me a longing look, and I try not to think about what shower could imply if he had his soul bound. "I'll make breakfast. dinner," he offers.  
  
"Fine by me."  
  
****  
  
The shower feels good. I turn the water up so that it is as hot as I can take it. I know that my skin is turning red from the heat, but I like it. It helps me sort out the thoughts in my head.  
  
Sleep was good. I needed it, but I'm still in a whirl of confusion. Life is still spinning out around me, but for the first time since I was brought back, I realize that I'm finally in control. I can't even remember the last time I was in control of my own life. No, that's not true. The last time I had control was before Angel left me.  
  
I dry my hair carefully, and I'm sure to take some time doing hair and makeup. Despite everything that has happened, I still want Angel's eyes to light up when he sees me. Weird how some people's minds work when they're in the middle of an identity crisis.  
  
I can smell different scents wafting up the stairs, and I'm sure that it's from the cooking job that Angel is doing in the kitchen. For someone who doesn't eat, he's always had plenty of culinary skills.  
  
I can hear the TV going in the living room and I give a thin smile, figuring that I should start by apologizing to my little sis. "Dawn," I say, and then freeze when I enter the room.  
  
Huddled on the couch Dawn sits, right in between Xander, Anya, Willow, and Tara. I stare at them in horror, not sure what to do. Should I apologize? Or yell at them for coming back? Were they here to yell at me?  
  
Angel appears beside me, and I feel a scream catch in my throat. I know that I'm close to losing it again, and that's the last thing that I want to do. He slips my hand in his and gives it a gentle squeeze, instantly calming me. "Hear them out," he whispers in my ear.  
  
I give a thin smile, holding on to my sanity for all I'm worth. I look at the group wearily. "Hi."  
  
Xander and Willow look at me guiltily. "Look, Buffy," Xander starts, "we're here to. to-"  
  
"Apologize," Willow finishes, quietly.  
  
Tara nods. "We're sorry about last night. We should have left as soon as we realized where you'd been."  
  
"I'm sorry that I told you Giles was leaving," Anya adds.  
  
"Buffy, we're here for you," Xander continues, "and I know I said some things last night that I'm not particularly proud of, but. I couldn't be happier that you're back."  
  
"Me, too. And I still want to do anything I can to bound Angel's soul if you still want it," Willow says.  
  
I feel tears brimming in my eyes again, and I mentally curse them. "Thanks guys," I manage despite the lump in my throat. "I'm sorry, too. I didn't have any right to say any of those things."  
  
Xander shook his head. "No, you totally had the right."  
  
I sniffle and let out a pathetic chuckle. So much for wanting to look good. "I didn't really mean it."  
  
I hear a chorus of, "We know! And we forgive you!"  
  
Finally, Dawn stands up and glares at all of us. "Just hug already!"  
  
My friends and I look at each other and give a little laugh. Xander opens up his arms and says, "Come here!"  
  
I sigh and accept the invitation. Willow, Tara, Dawn, and Anya, join in thoroughly crushing my ribs, but it feels good to know that I have so much to live for. I meet Angel's eyes over the tops of everyone's heads, and I'm sad to see that he is standing alone. He gives me a sad smile, and I duck out of everyone's arms so I can walk over him.  
  
"You don't have to." he protests, but I throw myself at him, and he holds me without any more complaints.  
  
I smile, finally feeling as if things were starting to get back on track. Giles is still missing, and I know that I'm going to have to say good-bye to him, and Dawn and I still need to pack, but life is. good. And it's all because of one person.  
  
I look up at him, not missing the way he was gazing at me in pure devotion. "I love you," I murmur, "nothing will ever change that."  
  
END. for now *g* 


	6. No! Not Another Death story By What's he...

Title: No! Not another Death story by what's her name!  
  
Author: Goldy  
  
Disclaimer: *Ahem* BTVS and Ats are the solely belong to WB, MN, JW, and UPN. That is, until I kidnap them *insert maniacal laughter*  
  
Synopsis: Buffy. Angel. Stuff.  
  
Rating: PG or maybe PG-13ish  
  
Dedication: My one and only buddy Lindsey. Not that she's my *only* buddy, but. she's the only one that will put up with me *ducks the shovel coming at head* or not. but she's nice enough to edit my fics for me (  
  
A/N: Hope I'm not the only one that is wondering 'What has gotten into the author formally known as Goldy, tonight???' Ummm, I'm running out of title ideas, so if anyone has any, I'm open and ready for suggestions. Also, I think this is going to be the second to last in the series. It's the last one before the inevitable LA confrontation, where I'm planning on writing the last for a while. That isn't to say I won't ever come back to this, but. I have other series that I was working on before starting this and I need to get back to those. Big thank you's to anyone that gave me feedback!  
  
A/N 2: this one is 3rd person narration so 'denotes Buffy's thoughts'  
  
A/N3: Youch! A fluffy one! I'm not sure what got into me, either.. Just know there is a lot of fluff and minimal plot.  
  
Feedback: *Takes a deep breath* PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE???  
  
Buffy took one long last look at her house. For the first time since rushing out to meet Angel all those days ago, she felt a pang go through her. It asked if she was really doing the right thing. Selling her house, leaving her friends, leaving the hellmouth. 'But that's the point of being reborn,' Buffy thought, 'starting anew. and hopefully starting something better.'  
  
She heard a nervous cough behind her, and she turned slowly, already knowing whom it was. Giles looked at her awkwardly. "Buffy."  
  
Buffy gave him a reassuring smile. "It's okay."  
  
He nodded, not looking any less awkward. "I. wish you the best. and. I hope that one day we will see each other again."  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes. "They do have post offices in England, right?"  
  
"Of course, but."  
  
"So, don't make it seem like I'm never going to see you again! You're just going to be a letter or a phone call away. or you know, if you decide to try using a computer again."  
  
Giles looked as if he might cry, and Buffy found herself getting teary. She was glad to note that they were tears of sadness rather than her earlier tears of despair and pain. "Perhaps I will," Giles said.  
  
"When does your flight leave?" Buffy mumbled, staring at the ground.  
  
"Tomorrow at five."  
  
"AM???" Buffy shrieked.  
  
"It isn't as bad as you make it out to be." Giles said.  
  
"Sure it is. You were just a school librarian for about 100 years, and you guys needed to get up at like *four* in the morning."  
  
"Six, actually," Giles corrected stiffly.  
  
Buffy gave a short, pained chuckle. "I'm scared, Giles."  
  
Giles looked at her kindly. "What do you have to be scared of?"  
  
Buffy gestured towards her house. "This. Leaving. Moving. Things are going to change."  
  
"I'm sure that Angel would understand if you said that you didn't want to leave." Giles pointed out reasonably.  
  
Buffy gave a sad smile. "He wouldn't mind. But I want to be wherever he is, and he needs to be in LA. So, I'm LA girl."  
  
"If that's what you want, then you're making the right choice."  
  
"But what if we can't make it work?" Buffy looked at Giles with wide pleading eyes, "What if Willow's spell doesn't work? What if we can't even find a spell? What if we do, and he decides that he doesn't need me now that he can be with anyone he wants? What if I can't survive on my own?"  
  
"What if it does work and you end up happy and together?" Giles asked simply.  
  
Buffy looked at her house longingly. "Then, it will all be worth it."  
  
Giles followed her gaze and pursed his lips. "Buffy I want you to know that despite the way that I have felt about Angel in the past, I think that he is what is best for you right now."  
  
Buffy turned away from the house in disgust and regarded her watcher seriously. "Thank you. that means a lot."  
  
Giles pulled her into a hug. "You're going to be all right."  
  
Buffy closed her eyes wondering when she might see Giles and his tweed clad outfits again. "I know."  
  
Buffy jumped when she heard her front door bang open. Pulling away from Giles she regarded the two figures coming down the steps. Dawn skipped towards where Buffy and Giles were standing, while Angel lumbered behind, carrying five suitcases. Dawn turned around and frowned at Angel's slow progress. "Come on, Angel! We don't have all day!"  
  
Angel gave a labored breath, which Buffy found kind of funny since he didn't need to breathe. "What did you pack in here???"  
  
Dawn gave the bags a once over. "Four of them are Buffy's," she supplied.  
  
Angel dropped the bags unceremoniously at Buffy's feet and glared at her. "I thought that you wanted to start over!"  
  
Buffy shrugged. "I wanted my stuff." Angel groaned and threw the things in his car. Buffy clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from giggling. Patting his cheek in mock sympathy she said, "Thanks, honey."  
  
"You welcome, *sweetie,*" Angel muttered bitterly.  
  
Buffy looked at the car that she was riding in to get back to LA. She let out a snort and gave Angel an amused look. "I'll never understand men and their cars."  
  
Angel patted the back seat door affectionately. "She runs like a dream."  
  
That was it. Buffy couldn't control herself. She burst into gales of laughter. "I *can't* *believe* that I just heard *you* say that."  
  
Angel tried to look annoyed, but his happiness at seeing her laugh like that couldn't prevent the smile that spread across his face. "I'll throw you in the trunk if you keep insulting her like that."  
  
Buffy bit her lip to keep from laughing again. "Should I be feeling jealous?"  
  
Angel stepped forward. "I don't know."  
  
Buffy took the invitation and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pressed her lips to his in a sweet kiss. "Have you named her yet?"  
  
Angel's lips twitched into a smile. "I like seeing you like this."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
Angel looked deep into her eyes. "Smiling and laughing. happy."  
  
"I like it, too," Buffy stood on her tip-toes and pressed another kiss to his waiting lips. Aware of the other people watching them, she pulled away and leaned into his safe embrace. "It's because of you, you know."  
  
Angel breathed in the scent of her hair and closed his eyes. Thoughts of what his life had been like before she came back to him went through his brain, and he held her a little tighter. "I'd do anything if it meant making you happy."  
  
"I know," Buffy whispered. Suddenly she pulled away and looked at him with mischievous eyes, "That include letting me drive?"  
  
Angel blanched. "In *this* car??? Are you kidding?!"  
  
Buffy gave him her best pout face. "It would make me very happy."  
  
"Don't push your luck," Angel growled.  
  
"Pleeeeeaaasssseeee?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Angel.."  
  
"No."  
  
"Oh, come on!"  
  
"Maybe."  
  
Buffy nodded, satisfied. "Good."  
  
"I didn't say yes," Angel pointed out.  
  
"Riley would have let me," Buffy grumbled.  
  
Buffy shrieked when Angel grabbed her arm and swung her around against him. "Stupid boy probably didn't even know how to drive."  
  
Buffy lifted her chin, and tried not to show the effect his nearness was having on her. "You'd be surprised." Angel made a growling sound in the back of his throat, which Buffy found both funny and sexy. "I think someone is getting a little jealous."  
  
Angel pulled Buffy more tightly against him. "Of course I'm jealous. He got to be there when I couldn't. He got to protect you when I couldn't. He could've given you all the things that I can't."  
  
"No, he didn't. He didn't give me *you*."  
  
Angel gulped. "Buffy."  
  
Buffy laid a finger on his lips. "Shhh. I didn't know that you felt like that. Riley is of the past. You're here with me now, and that's all that matters."  
  
"I wasn't there when you. when you.." Angel trailed off, not being able to say the words.  
  
"Angel, stop! That *wasn't* your fault. I thought we already covered this."  
  
"But what if I had been there? I could have saved you.." Angel's voice got hoarse and he looked away guiltily.  
  
Buffy forced his head back around. "Angel, in the past few days you have given me more than anyone ever has. When I jumped off that tower my life wasn't exactly a picnic. But in just three days you managed to change that. And now I'm going to get another chance to start over. You've given me so much. Why are you the only one that can't see that?"  
  
"Did you love Riley?"  
  
Buffy looked him straight in the eye. "Riley who?"  
  
Angel smiled in relief and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "We should probably get going."  
  
Buffy nodded and looked around for Dawn. She noticed her sister watching them intently, looking very interested in what vampire and slayer were discussing. Buffy felt a pang in her heart as she took in Giles' absence. She couldn't believe that he was really gone. Life without Giles was going to take some getting use to. "Ready to go?"  
  
"If you guys stop shoving your tongues down each other's throats long enough, I'm ready," Dawn snapped.  
  
Buffy blushed and pulled away from Angel. "Sorry. You weren't supposed to see that."  
  
Dawn shrugged. "Whatever. I saw you and Riley go at it for a year." Buffy felt Angel tense behind her and she gave her sister a warning glare. "But that was mostly just mindless groping. you know without love or anything.." Dawn said quickly, looking at Buffy with panicky eyes. Buffy smacked her forehead and sighed painfully. This was going to be a very long trip.  
  
Buffy turned slowly to see Angel leaning against his car, regarding her calmly. "She's exaggerating."  
  
"No, I'm not!!!" Dawn yelled. "Oops. sorry Buffy."  
  
"I thought you didn't remember who Riley was," Angel said.  
  
Buffy relaxed when she realized that Angel was just teasing her. "Well, I only meant that in comparison to *you* he was no one."  
  
Angel nodded. "Damn right."  
  
Dawn rolled her eyes. "Can we go, already?"  
  
"Probably a good idea," Angel glanced at the sky. "At this rate I'll turn into ash before we get there."  
  
"Shotgun the front seat!!!" Dawn cried quickly.  
  
Buffy snapped her head around at her. "No. Way."  
  
"I called it," Dawn said haughtily.  
  
"And I'm your legal guardian. That means you have to do what I say until you're 18. And I say that you're sitting in the back."  
  
"I'm not letting you and Angel make googoo eyes at each other the whole trip."  
  
"Dawn!"  
  
Dawn turned her attention to Angel. "I get the front seat right? Tell her, that I called it first."  
  
Buffy glared at her sister. "Angel, I'm the girl you love. Tell her, that she needs to sit in the back."  
  
Angel sighed. "I'm not going to be the one to choose here."  
  
"I called it!" Dawn said stubbornly.  
  
Buffy regarded Dawn dangerously before her mouth formed a naughty smile. Turning she looked at Angel, pleadingly. "I've got an idea.."  
  
****  
  
Buffy turned around and grinned at Angel. "You know, I think this is possibly the best idea that I have ever had."  
  
Angel glowered at her. "Keep. Your. Eyes. On. The. Road."  
  
Buffy childously stuck out her tongue at him, but turned her attention back to the road. Buffy raised her eyebrows at the sight of Dawn sitting next to her, covered in maps that she was busy rustling through. "I'm hungry," she whined.  
  
"Buffy! You're driving on the wrong side of the road," Angel yelled from the back seat.  
  
Buffy sighed sheepishly and maneuvered the car back to the right lane. "Good thing that it's like three in the morning. No other cars are out at this time of night."  
  
"They probably heard that you were going to be driving," Angel grumbled.  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, Mr. Grumpy. I'm not *that* bad."  
  
"Yes, you are," Dawn and Angel said in unison.  
  
"So, Dawn," Buffy said quickly, "why are you hungry?"  
  
"I just am," Dawn snapped, "and there's a Mcdonalds coming up on the next exit."  
  
Buffy grimaced. "Ewww, fast food that turns your stomach to mush and your muscles to dust. I'm in!"  
  
"Watch the road!" Angel cried.  
  
"I read somewhere that a kid actually died from eating a happy meal," Dawn informed them.  
  
"Well, you know what they say, you only live once," Buffy frowned, "or possibly twice in some cases."  
  
"You do know that there isn't actually any real food in those things," Angel said.  
  
Buffy turned and gave him a surprised look, causing Angel to wince as his car scraped along the barrier to the side of the road. "Of course I knew! That's what makes the food so good!"  
  
Angel groaned. "My poor car."  
  
Buffy frowned, and *finally* turned her attention back to road just in time to watch an exit pass by. "Buffy!" Dawn shrieked.  
  
Buffy blushed. "Oops.." Taking a quick look around, Buffy made sure that there wasn't anyone else in a close vicinity, then she slammed her foot on the breaks and backed the car up. When they were close enough to the exit, Buffy pressed her foot down on the accelerator and barreled down the exit.  
  
Dawn gripped the sides of her seat. "Are you trying to kill me???"  
  
"Please, what normal person would ever be able to do that?" Buffy asked.  
  
Angel sighed. "None. Thank God."  
  
"I think I like your car, Angel," Buffy chirped.  
  
"I liked it a lot better when you weren't the one driving," Angel sighed.  
  
Buffy screeched to a hault in front of the drive through window at the Mcdonalds. "What do you guys want?"  
  
"A big Mac with fries and a large chocolate milk shake!" Dawn said.  
  
"Dawn! I don't want you to throw up all over Angel's leather seats," Buffy chastised.  
  
Angel threw his hands in the air. "Fine! I get the hint! I'll get a new car."  
  
"Now, whatever gave you the idea that I didn't like this car?" Buffy muttered, trying her best to look bewildered, but was having trouble concealing her smile.  
  
"That's it!" Angel cried, "We're switching places. Now."  
  
Buffy pouted. "No fair. I'll be good, I promise."  
  
"Who are you getting to pay for this morning snack anyway?" Angel questioned.  
  
"Um. you?"  
  
"Very good. Now get out of the car."  
  
Buffy groaned and opened her door. Her glaring face was the first thing that Angel saw when he opened his door. "You're mean."  
  
Angel smiled at her. "At least I'm not planning on leaving you here."  
  
Buffy narrowed her eyes. "You wouldn't do that."  
  
"You'd be surprised."  
  
Buffy folded her arms over her chest and stood in front of Angel. "I'm not moving until you apologize."  
  
****  
  
Dawn sighed, and leaned her head back against her seat wearily. They could be at this all night. "*Hello?* Can I please take your order?" Dawn gave the Mcdonald's microphonedrivethroughthinigie a look, before groaning and climbing into the driver's seat.  
  
"Uhh. yeah, could I have two big mac meals with a chocolate milkshake and a diet sprite?"  
  
"Will that be all?" the microphone asked.  
  
"Ummm, hold on a sec, kay?" Dawn turned her head, and heard a soft giggle come from the back seat. She rolled her eyes and decided that she didn't want to know. "Angel, you want anything to eat? I mean, meat does have *some* blood in it."  
  
There was another giggle before Dawn heard a reply. "Not *this* meat."  
  
"I'll take that as a no," Dawn mumbled to herself. "Yeah, that'd be it," she told the drive through microphone.  
  
"Pick up is at the next window," it said promptly.  
  
Dawn risked another look behind her. She sighed. Nope, it didn't look like they were going to make the window any time soon.  
  
****  
  
"Kindly, move out of my way."  
  
"Not until you apologize."  
  
Angel growled and grabbed Buffy's hips, pulling her on top of him. They fell back against the seat with Buffy lying on top of Angel's chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist and secured her firmly against him. "I'm not letting you go until *you* apologize to *me*."  
  
"I don't know. I feel like I could stay this way for a while." Buffy admitted with a sly grin. Angel gave her a smile and traced the tips of his fingertips over her well-toned back and sides. "A long while," Buffy gasped out.  
  
Angel ran his fingers through her hair, mesmerized by the way that her soft strands felt against his skin. He closed his eyes, thinking about how alive she made him feel in just the few days that she came back. She gave his life meaning. Every person, every soul, that he saved was for her. Seeing her smile and tease him like this. it was enough to fill his unbeating heart with joy.  
  
"I wish that I could always make you this happy," Angel sighed, looking into her beautiful emerald eyes.  
  
Buffy giggled. With trembling fingers she reached out and touched his face, exploring his fine lips and exquisitely sculpted cheeks. Angel closed his eyes, and let her trace him and memorize him, her fingers soft and caressing. Soon, her lips followed suit and she pressed quick butterfly kisses to his nose and chin, cheeks and eyebrows.  
  
Angel sighed, feeling himself drown in her. When she reached his lips, fireworks exploded behind his eyes, and warmth touched him to the very bottom if his toes. His hands continued roaming down her body, touching her hips and strong buttocks. Her hands did a search of her own, over his strong chest and hard abdomen.  
  
When Buffy's tongue entered his mouth, Angel let out a loud moan and felt himself losing a grip on reality. All he knew was that he was in Buffy's arms and that was all that was important. Teeth nipped, tongues melted together in a dangerous dance, and hands roamed, until there wasn't anything left but the two of them.  
  
"Stop. Stop! STOP IT!!!!" Dawn roared as loud as she could.  
  
Buffy hearing the sound of her sister's yelling, pulled away from Angel breathing hard. He rested his forehead against hers, in a silent apology. "That got a little out of hand," she panted.  
  
Angel could feel her breath ticking his skin, and he closed his eyes to get control over himself. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't be. I was free. for however short a time."  
  
"I know the feeling."  
  
"Soon," Buffy promised. "Willow, will find something. She has to."  
  
With great reluctance, Angel released his arms from around Buffy's waist. "She will, but first, mind letting me drive?"  
  
Buffy gave him a ghost of a smile trying not to think of what would have happened if Dawn hadn't been there. She gave him one last kiss, enough for the time being, and climbed out the door. Angel followed suit and jumped into the driver's seat. "So," he took a quick glance at Dawn who had her arms crossed indignantly over her chest, "where are we going?"  
  
"The pick-up window," she snapped, not looking at him.  
  
"Dawnie," Buffy said from the back seat, "I'm sorry. We didn't mean to get carried away."  
  
Dawn stared out the window.  
  
Buffy sighed. "Dawn, come on. I'm a big girl, I know what I'm doing."  
  
"I don't want to see Angelus again," Dawn cried. "Angel's soul isn't permanent yet." Her voice caught, "I remember how much he hurt you."  
  
Angel stared stoically ahead as he drove to the pick up window. "I'd stop it before it got that bad, Dawn. I know what lives inside of me. I will *not* let Angelus out again."  
  
The teenager at the window stared at the group with wide eyes. "Uhhh, your foods a little cold."  
  
"Fine," Angel said. "I'm not eating it anyway."  
  
Dawn snorted. "Typical."  
  
The teen holding out their bag shifted uncomfortably. "That's $11.95, sir."  
  
Angel groaned and handed over the money. Fast food definitely wasn't as cheap as it used to be. He noticed that the teen was holding onto a cross with one hand. Angel gave a small approving nod. Good, the guy would stay alive longer.  
  
The man wished him a good night, and Angel passed the cold bag to Dawn, who dug into it with enthusiasm. "Thanks for the food, Angel," she grumbled.  
  
Angel forced a thin smile. "Your welcome."  
  
Buffy sighed and took the bag from Dawn. "I liked it when I was driving, better."  
  
"It was dangerous when you were driving," Angel countered.  
  
"Yeah, but it was more fun."  
  
"Let me teach you how first."  
  
Buffy grinned. "Okay."  
  
"I'm coming!" Dawn cried.  
  
"No, you're not," Buffy said.  
  
"Yes, I am."  
  
"No, you're not."  
  
"Am, too!"  
  
"Are, not!"  
  
"Someone needs to come to make sure that you keep your hands off each other," Dawn whined.  
  
"Fine. But that doesn't mean it needs to be you." Buffy retorted.  
  
"We could always take Cordy." Angel's words were met with dead silence in the back seat.  
  
"Dawn," Buffy finally choked out, "why don't you come with us?"  
  
"Fine." Dawn sapped.  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes. "You're so immature."  
  
Angel sighed. This was going to be a long trip.  
  
****  
  
Buffy wrinkled her nose at the huge structure. "You live in there???"  
  
"I didn't know you were that rich," Dawn said cocking her head.  
  
Angel frowned. "Actually, I got it for free."  
  
"Possessed by a demon?"  
  
Angel quirked an eyebrow at Buffy. "Pretty much."  
  
Buffy chuckled and shook her head. "And you've been living in there alone since then."  
  
"Actually, Fred lives with me. I mean, she lives in there now."  
  
"She?" Buffy asked cheerfully.  
  
Angel shifted uncomfortably. "It's kind of a long story.."  
  
"Save her from a life of unspeakable torment?"  
  
"Well. yeah."  
  
"And, what? You just decided that she should live with you because she would be safer that way? Do you invite everyone that has been in danger to live with you?"  
  
"Buffy.."  
  
Buffy ignored him. "No, I wanna know. Am I just some girl who you're doing a favour for? We haven't been together for two years, Angel, you don't owe me anything."  
  
Angel grabbed her arm. "Buffy, don't do this! You know that isn't the way that I feel about you. How could you even think that about Fred??? How could *I* even think about Fred remotely like that right after you died?"  
  
Buffy struggled half-heartedly to get out of his grip, but he was holding on like he was afraid she was going to run away if he let go. 'Which I wouldn't do because already been down that path..' Finally, she just stood glaring at him. "Fine. You love me. Let go."  
  
Angel let go, but didn't move away from her. "I'm not going to run away again!" Buffy yelled.  
  
Angel watched her guardedly. "I do love you. *Only* you."  
  
Buffy bit her lip. "I know."  
  
"Are you sure?" Angel bit out tersely.  
  
Buffy looked him straight in the eye. "I'm sure."  
  
He nodded. "Then. why?"  
  
Buffy shrugged. "Love makes you do the wacky," she muttered under her breath. She gave a thin smile realizing that she already missed her red- hair friend. "Can we just go to bed? It's been a long day."  
  
Angel sighed and took her hand. He looked at Dawn who had been hanging back, watching their argument with a bored face, "Coming?"  
  
Dawn walked slowly behind vampire and slayer. "You guys were the slow pokes."  
  
Buffy smiled thinly. "Does your gang know that you're bringing me back?"  
  
"I haven't talked to them since I left," Angel admitted.  
  
Buffy groaned. "And we thought *my* friends were bad."  
  
End 


	7. There is Death in LA Too

Title: There is Death in LA Too  
  
Author: Goldy  
  
Email: thegoldoneb_a@hotmail.com  
  
Disclaimer: Well Spike and Buffy aren't screwing each other and Angel isn't having sons, so.. I must just be borrowing these characters.  
  
A/N: Well, this is the last for now. This series is in no way done, and I'm sure that I'll have another amazing idea for it sometime within the next month or so. I really want to get back to writing my Titanic story, which I've kind of abandoned in the time I've been writing this (if anyone is interested, I wouldn't mind posting it here). Plus, exams are coming up so. don't even know how much time I'll have.  
  
A/N2: My buddy Lindsey didn't get her hands and red marker on this one, so all the mistakes are mine. I *swear* that girl *never* checks her email.  
  
A/N3: Told from Buffy's POV again. Oh, and just so I don't make an A/N4 and bug the hell out of anyone that is bothering to read this. I kinda took some revenge on the whole Cordelia meeting thing. I think I have some suppressed anger towards that character.  
  
Dedication: My beloved Babblers, I don't know what I would do without you (  
  
Feedback: You *know* you want to.  
  
Rating: PG13  
  
Angel opens the door for me and leads me in by the hand. I can't suppress the gasp that leaves my lips upon the discovery of his place. I don't think that I've ever heard of any one person living in a fortress this size. But that isn't the only reason that I gasp. The hotel reminds me of Angel. The furniture, the walls, the lighting, the air-they scream at me, yelling that this is Angel's home.  
  
Which, by extension, makes it my home.  
  
Angel notices my reaction and gives my hand a little squeeze. I wonder if he even realizes how much this place is like him. The Hyperion reminds me of the mansion except this place is more lived in. I can tell that Angel has life around him and friends, rather than being stuck out in a large place in the woods.  
  
The thought makes me alternately sad and happy. Happy, because he has others in his life besides me. Sad, because he has others in his life besides me. It's a bad bad cycle.  
  
Angel sniffs the air and looks around frowning. "It's empty," he declares.  
  
"Really? Cause I was under the impression that it was brimming with life," I mutter.  
  
Angel sniffs the air again and I roll my eyes. The man I love can sniff people. It's kinda funny if you think about it. Actually, it makes me wonder what *I* smell like to him. And that's probably something that I don't know.  
  
"This place hasn't been empty since." Angel trails off, and stares at me guiltily.  
  
"What?" Somehow I get the feeling that I don't want to know.  
  
Angel lets out a deep breath. "Fred isn't even here."  
  
"How awful." Angel glares at me, and I feel guilty. But when it comes to us, I always got jealous easily. "Maybe they thought it would be a good idea to go to bed, being about four in the morning and all.."  
  
"Maybe," Angel says, but he doesn't look convinced.  
  
"And you were gone for quite a few days. If I were them, I wouldn't hang around either."  
  
"They were all *right* *here* when I came back from the monastery."  
  
I look at him sharply. "Monastery?"  
  
He shifts. Uncomfortably. Good. What else hasn't he told me? "I went away for a couple months after." he pauses, and I know that he still can't say it. "After. you know.."  
  
"Yeah, I know," I say softly.  
  
Angel grips my hand, and I feel bad again for feeling jealous of Fred. Angel loves me. Only me. Forever.  
  
Dawn appears beside us and takes a chug on her large chocolate shake. "Whatya guys doin?"  
  
"Nothing that involves you," I snap. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"  
  
Dawn glares. "I'm trying. But *some* people keep having emotionally fraught conversations in between screwing and fighting."  
  
I turn to Angel. "This place does have accessible rooms ri.. Wait? I died and you only left for a *couple* months??? How long did it take you to deal anyway?"  
  
Angel looks like he might run away. I don't blame him. I'm being an itch with a capital b. But I can't help it. I know that if he left me, I wouldn't be able to deal and move on. It hurts to know that he is my only tie to life, while I'm not his.  
  
Angel closes his eyes. "Buffy, this isn't the time. Why don't we all get some rest and talk about this in the morning?"  
  
"I told Spike I'd been in heaven before I told you."  
  
The hurt I see flash in Angel's eyes makes me regret the words the second they leave my mouth. But I can't take them back now. I can't take back anything.  
  
"Buffy, not now." he begs meekly.  
  
"Did you know that I thought about screwing him? It would be so easy to let go. he said he loved me when no one else did." I know I should shut my stupid mouth before I say something else that I'll regret, but I can't. I'm on a roll. "I dreamt about it, screwing Spike and letting go. Did you know that?"  
  
Angel is silent.  
  
I'm silent.  
  
Dawn is silent.  
  
The air pushes down on us. It's heavy air. The kind that you can feel because the tension is so thick. It makes me want to run away. But I'm stuck. I need to wait for what Angel says. His face is hard, and I know that I've hurt him worse than I have ever hurt him before.  
  
"I fucked Darla last year."  
  
Silence.  
  
Deep, penetrating, soul-wrenching silence.  
  
I stare at him, unable to move or speak. Darla? But Darla is dead, I want to say. I want to tell Angel that he is wrong. He couldn't have fucked Darla last year, because Darla is dead. He killed her. For me. Angel killed Darla for me. Darla is dead.  
  
With a jolt I remember that sometimes things don't stay dead.  
  
I blink. Once. Twice. Three times. But my head still doesn't clear. The words are still hanging in the air. I fucked Darla. I wonder if he yelled her name when he came. I wonder if he promised her all that he promised me the one and only time that we had been together. I wonder if she brought him true happiness.  
  
And there is silence.  
  
I don't move. Angel doesn't move. We stare at each other, deep piercing stares, as if that could help us to communicate. And maybe it does. We're both so helpless, so in love, that we can't do anything but hurt each other. We're so in love that we know exactly what to say to cause the other soul-deep agony.  
  
There is a loud screech from the corner of the lobby. The silence is broken. There are words: "Angel, do you have a bathroom?"  
  
Angel snaps his head around, and I'm no longer staring at him in horror. "Why?"  
  
I turn slowly, until I can focus on Dawn, shifting uncomfortably. "I think I drank too much," she mutters.  
  
Angel shakes his head, as if trying to bring himself out of a trance. "I don't know where the bathrooms are."  
  
"How can you not know where the bathrooms are?" Dawn snaps, clearly annoyed.  
  
"I don't." Angel looks away, ashamed. "I don't need to use it."  
  
Dawn crosses her legs. "I *really* need to go."  
  
Angel seems embarrassed. And I feel my heart twinge painfully because I know that he is thinking about how much little things like going to the bathroom set him apart from people. And that makes me happy, that I can hurt for him, even when I feel like ripping his perfect head off his perfect body. "Dawn look around," I finally say, coming to his rescue, "this is a lobby of a hotel. There's bound to be a bathroom around somewhere."  
  
Dawn sighs and heads off, opening random doors here and there. I don't really pay attention, but at some point she disappears, so I figure that she must have found it. I turn my attention back to Angel. He looks guilty, and tired, and haggard, expressions that I'm sure are just as prominent on my own features.  
  
I sit. "I guess that's some of the other stuff that you haven't been telling me, huh?" I laugh. I'm sorry for wondering about what else has gone on in his life. Angel looks confused. He watches me wearily, and I guess he's afraid I'm going to break down again. I bite my lip in an effort for self-control. I am *not* looking to lose it again.  
  
"Do you want the long version or the short version?" Angel asks.  
  
I rub my temples wearily. "Neither. I don't really want to know what possessed you to screw your evil sire."  
  
Angel sits carefully next to me. "I was in a bad place. What I did with Darla. it was rock bottom for me."  
  
"Your soul?" I manage to croak out.  
  
"I wanted to lose it," he admits simply. "But Darla couldn't do that for me."  
  
I shut my eyes and lean back. I know there is more to the story, like why and how Darla was brought back. I know that we will talk about it. But for Angel to be in a place so dark that he actually wanted to lose his soul tells me a lot. Angel is the strongest person that I've ever met, and it chills me to know that he was in a place that bad. It chills me to know that he felt what I am feeling.  
  
I can feel him watching my face anxiously. I think that he is afraid I'll do something psychotic. He thinks he needs to treat me like glass, or else I'll break. Wearily I open my eyes and focus on his beautiful face.  
  
"You promised me forever."  
  
Angel reaches out and tentatively take my hand. He brushes a light, feather kiss to my knuckles. "You'll get it."  
  
I call on all remaining energy to climb into the warm shelter of his arms. "Not matter what we have to work through.."  
  
"No matter how many times we fight," Angel says.  
  
"No matter how many times we hurt each other," I add.  
  
"Forever." Angel promises, holding me tight.  
  
"Forever," I repeat, eyelids heavy. The world turns black, and my lips curve into a smile, content in knowing that I'm where I should be.  
  
I feel Angel lift me ever so gently, and carry me somewhere, until I'm placed on a warm bed. I hear voices, hushed tones, Dawn's and Angel's. I relax a little more, knowing that he is taking care of her. He is next to me and I curl up next to him, fitting perfectly against his body.  
  
Then, there is no more.  
  
****  
  
When I awake I expect to be greeted with the cool, hard chest of the man I love. Instead, I roll over and find only empty air where a certain vampire should be.  
  
I groan, forcing my eyes open. Light streams through the curtain, making little patterns of light on the carpet and bed like a mini rainbow. I have a moment of blind panic, thinking that Angel has been reduced to nothing but ash. Then, I noticed the note. It's sitting on his pillow, with a long stemmed red rose attached to it.  
  
I sigh, relaxing lazily against the pillows of Angel's bed. What a romantic he is. I think about our harsh words of the night before, but immediately banish it from my thoughts. It was late and we were tired. Neither of us intended to hurt the other. I pick up the note. I trace his loopy handwriting with my finger, thinking about the beautiful penmanship that was truly Angel.  
  
Morning Sleepy-head,  
  
Don't be mad at me for not waking you, but you were sleeping peacefully when I remembered that I don't carry around food in this old grungy place. Hopefully, I'll have breakfast done before you have a chance to read this.  
  
Always,  
  
A  
  
I yawn and think about how much I love him. Always, he wrote. I smile a little. Always. I wonder if he ever promised Darla always. But I don't want to go there. I don't want to think about the harsh argument of the night before. It's true what they say: morning does make you see things in a whole new light. I look at where the curtains are open. He probably did that for me, half-frying to death, while being careful not to wake me.  
  
If that isn't always, I don't know what is.  
  
I get up and dress. Then, I find a bathroom. The place is huge, and finding a toilet and a sink *with* running water is harder than one would think. Although, I do manage to stumble into one along some hallway, that also has a flushable toilet. I'm impressed. The only problem is, I think I'm lost.  
  
I open the door tentatively and stare down the long winding hall with a doubtful look on my face. If I ever find Angel again, I'm telling him to get a plumber *and* a bathroom installed in the lobby. That way I won't ever have any more problems.  
  
Sighing, I walk down the path, aimlessly humming some tune under my breath that I'm sure I've heard before, but probably wouldn't recognize if I ever heard it on the radio. After 10 minutes of fruitless wandering, I decide that my case is hopeless.  
  
"Help!" I yell, really loud, hoping that the poorly designed walls don't fall down. I tap my foot impatiently, but neither Angel nor Dawn appears to rescue me.  
  
That's it. After the plumber and the bathroom are installed, Angel is going to put signs up on the walls saying what section I'm in, and how to get out of it.  
  
"I really really need HELP!!!" I yell again. "I'm lost and confused, and HELP!!!!"  
  
I hear a noise behind me. I spin, knowing that it isn't Angel because I would have sensed him from a mile away, or Dawn because there is no way that she could ever be that stealthy. The man coming towards me was walking slowly and deliberately, holding out his hands, as if to reassure me.  
  
I get into an attack stance.  
  
"It's okay," he says, "I'm here to help you."  
  
Right. And I'm a regular human being. I sum him up. He was a short, young, black-African American I correct myself sharply, I have to be politically correct-man, whom I was sure I could take with one sweep of my hand. But I watch him wearily, knowing not to trust anyone.  
  
The man sums me up just like I did him. Apparently he likes what he sees because he gives me a wide flirtatious smile. Oooh, I'm going to get Angel to kick his ass just for that. "It's okay," he says again. Like that is going to make me believe him. "You've come to the right place."  
  
I frown. He seems almost nice. Strange. Most people that I meet want to attack me. I look at him suspiciously, but relax a little. "Are you. Angel?" I try to keep my voice meek and girly, how I imagine everyone that needs Angel's help is like.  
  
The man pauses and seems to think things over. "Not exactly. but I work with him, and I promise you that I will do anything I can to help you."  
  
I stare at him, and I realize that I've fallen out of my attack stance. I don't think he is a threat. In fact, I really do think he works with Angel. I know that Cordelia and Wesley work with him, and apparently this Fred, but he never mentioned anyone else. Or maybe he did, and I wasn't listening. I tend to do that sometimes.  
  
The man extends his hand. "Tell me what you need and we will help."  
  
I raise my eyebrows. I don't think this guy has had a date in a *very* long time. "What's your name?" I ask, almost forgetting to sound small and afraid.  
  
"Charles Gunn, but my friends just call me Gunn."  
  
Is Angel one of his friends? If Angel works with Gunn, then he must trust him. If Angel trusts him, then I can trust him.  
  
"Can I do anything to help you?" Gunn asks, putting as much sincerity in his voice as he can. Huh. Angel is very good at the sincerity thing. I wonder if he taught it to his co-workers.  
  
"That's very nice of you to ask," I say graciously.  
  
The man relaxes and takes a few steps toward me, looking very hard in places that I liked to think were only for Angel's eyes. "I mean it," he promises.  
  
I bite my lip. I have to admit that it's sexier when Angel does the whole noble thing. Although, I kinda like this Gunn. He seems loyal. I wish that Angel had told me about him first. Feeling bad for the guy I smile and put away the weak girl façade. "Well, since you ask. how do I get back to the lobby?"  
  
****  
  
As we near the front of the hotel I start to hear voices. I can make out Angel's voice clearly, even if I can't understand what he's saying. There is a female voice that I figure must be Cordy, and another female voice that I don't recognize. Probably the infamous Fred. They seem to be arguing about something or other, and occasionally a stiff British voice would add in his two cents. That must be Wesley.  
  
As we neared I began to hear bits and pieces of the conversation. Welcome back, Angel. Why were you gone for so long, Angel. We have so many cases to get to, Angel. I had another vision, Angel. Yadda, yadda, yadda, blah, blah, blah..  
  
Gunn, ever faithful, gestures toward where all the people are standing. "This is it."  
  
"Thanks," I say very gratefully. I feel a little bad. Poor Gunn had looked very surprised about my request, but he had led me here anyway. And I can safely assume that he is definitely human.  
  
I walk with my head high, and my back straight, right into the lobby. The silence following my entry was immediate and heavy, but I didn't let that bother me. "Good morning," I chirp happily, blowing Angel a kiss. I just know that will bug the hell out of all of them.  
  
More silence. It's almost as if they're seeing the dead.  
  
Angel is the first to recover. "I thought that you were still in bed."  
  
I smirk, noticing the looks that are exchanged between Wesley and Cordelia. Let them think what they want, I don't care. "I got lost. Good thing Gunn found me. I thought I might have starved to death."  
  
Gunn is staring at me with wide eyes then he turns his attention to Angel. The expression on his face is comical and I begin to take pity on him. Poor guy. Although, *still* looking where he shouldn't. I glance at Angel to see if he noticed that. The look on his face makes it clear that he did, and is *not* impressed. It gives me a thrill. Angel is being all-possessive.  
  
I stick out my hand and offer it to poor confused Gunn. "Hi!" I say brightly. "I'm Buffy."  
  
Gunn's eyes get even wider, and somewhat absently he takes my hand. "*You're* Buffy?"  
  
I nod. "In the flesh."  
  
He looks me up and down. "The slayer."  
  
"One and only," I answer. I frown. "Is Faith still alive? Cause then that would just be a yes."  
  
Gunn shifts uncomfortably. "You're a little small."  
  
I fold my arms over my chest, thinking about what I could do to make him realize that size doesn't matter when you're the slayer. Cordelia (whose head had been moving back and forth in an effort to understand the conversation Gunn and I were having) manages to get over her initial shock at seeing me and steps between us. I think it's a smart move. I *hate* it when people judge me on what I look like.  
  
"Okay, piece of advice Mr. Macho? *Don't* make a slayer mad!" Cordy turns around so she is looking and me. Judging. I wait patiently. I suppress a gasp when she throws her arms around me, blubbering against my neck. "Buffy it's true! It's really true. You're alive! Oh, Buffy, I'm sorry for every mean thing that I ever said to you. I'm so glad you're okay. Buffy. Buffy!"  
  
I look up, scared. I make eye contact with Angel who gives me a helpless shrug. After a minute I return Cordy's exuberant hug. "Uh, thanks. I think."  
  
As abruptly as she hugged me, Cordelia pulls back and glares at Angel. "*Why* the hell were you gone so long? And *what* is *she* doing here?" She glances at me, "No offense."  
  
"None taken," I say, my head whirling as I try to take in her words.  
  
"Cordy perhaps it would be best if we sat down and discussed this over a cup of tea." Wesley suggests.  
  
I look him in the eye and give a small smile. "Hi, Wes."  
  
He nods. "Good to have you back, Buffy."  
  
Angel glances at me worriedly, but I give him a reassuring look. I won't break down again and take things out on his friends. They aren't close enough to me to do that. But I notice things about Wesley. He lost his geeky-slicked-back-gelled-to-the-bone hair and his clothes don't even look half-british.  
  
He looks older.  
  
Cordelia manages to smile, and look royally pissed off at the same time. "No Wesley, I don't want to talk about this over tea. I want to talk about it *now*. Angel can't just go off like that. All I knew was that he had gone to meet Buffy and hadn't come back. I *DON'T* want another Darla repeat!"  
  
Huh. Darla again. What exactly happened to make Cordelia monitor Angel's life like she has complete control over him? I wonder if she knows about the whole "fucking" thing.  
  
"And now Buffy is here. Well, this is just great." And somehow Cordy's mouth is *still* going. Why isn't this bothering Angel? "We had to have Fred live with me while you were gone. Cause we couldn't have Angelus come here on a killing rampage or anything."  
  
I stare at Cordelia. I don't care how much Angel swears to me that she has changed, she still sounds awfully whiny to me.  
  
Gunn snorts from behind me and we all give him questioning glances. "If this is really the Buffy you all say she is, then I'm sure that she's just here to check the place out." Gunn glances at Cordelia, "You made it clear last night that there was no way these two could ever get back together."  
  
Cordelia sniffs. "They can't get back together because HELLO! World in mortal danger."  
  
I shift uncomfortably and Angel and I share a look. "Well, actually." he starts.  
  
"Oh, don't tell me!" Cordelia holds up her hands dramatically. "I am *not* going to hear you name, Buffy's name, and 'back together' in the same sentence. Understand?"  
  
Angel watches my face, gauging me for a reaction. I guess he's afraid I'll do something rash. I want to. Why isn't he sticking up for us? Why isn't he telling Cordelia to shut her mouth? Why does it seem like he is scrabbling for her approval?  
  
What isn't he telling me?  
  
"Cordelia," he finally says, maybe seeing the out-of-control look on my face, "can we go somewhere else to talk about this?"  
  
Cordelia opens her mouth as if to protest, but closes it when she sees the hard expression on Angel's face. Silently she leaves the room and Angel follows her. I wonder where they are going. Where else can they talk besides the lobby?  
  
Once Cordelia and Angel leave, there are only four of us left. Wesley, Gunn, and. Fred? She seems pretty. Very thin. She's twiddling her thumbs nervously, or maybe as if she's confused. In fact, she's looking around at her surroundings with wide eyes, like she might disappear at any moment. Strange.  
  
I give a little wave, and the best smile I can put on. "Hi."  
  
She looks around in confusion. "Oh, you mean me?" she finally asks.  
  
I nod.  
  
"Oh. I." she wrings her hands nervously. "I've heard so much about you. You're very pretty. for a someone who's died at least. Did it hurt coming back?"  
  
I blink. She's definitely bubbly. "Umm." I shift uncomfortably, "I don't really remember what happened when I first came back." That's a lie. I remember every single painful minute. But I'm not about to share that with Fred. "And you are.?"  
  
"Oh, right! I'm Fred." Fred takes my hand and gives it an effusive shake. So, this is Fred. I feel the old jealousy pangs coming on, but I quickly push them away. I kind of like Fred, sort of how I kind of like Gunn. Fred reminds me a little of Anya, who I had grown accustomed to. I kind of miss her and Xander.  
  
After the shaking and the meeting is done, Fred, Wesley, Gunn and I stand around nervously, waiting for Angel to come back. "So, Buffy," Wesley says, "how long are you planning on staying?"  
  
I shrug. "Forever."  
  
Wesley looks a little taken aback, and from the gasps of surprise both Gunn and Fred make, I'm guessing that they weren't exactly prepared for that answer, either. "Well. that's nice," Wesley finally mutters.  
  
Gunn pears at me, thoughtfully. "It will be good to have another warrior around."  
  
"That's me, the little warrior," I mumble.  
  
"Are you sure that you're the slayer?"  
  
I sigh. That boy needs a good whipping from me. Cordelia was right when she called him Mr. Macho. "I could kick your ass any day."  
  
Gunn sits down on one of those big couches that Angel just happens to have laying around his hotel. "I think I need to sit down," he admits.  
  
Fred frowns. "You are."  
  
Gunn closes his eyes. "Thank you for pointing that out."  
  
Fred doesn't say anything else. Neither does Wesley. Or Gunn for that matter. The four of us are pretty much silent. This is starting to confuse me. Is it this hotel that initiates uncomfortable silences or is it me?  
  
Finally, the silence is broken by a high pitched wailing from where Cordelia and Angel disappeared off to. "NO!!! I will *not* calm down! She can't stay here, Angel!"  
  
I look around guiltily. I wonder if Cordy knows how loud she is shrieking. Gunn, Fred, and Wesley, just shift uncomfortably again as if they wish they could be anywhere else in this world. I'm beginning to wish that myself.  
  
"I DON'T CARE WHAT SHE HAS BEEN THROUGH!!! SHE HAS PEOPLE THAT LOVE HER IN SUNNYDALE!!!"  
  
"I'm going to take a guess and say that Cordelia isn't exactly happy to have me," I grumble to no one in particular. I get no answer. I don't even know if anyone heard. I close my eyes and wish for this to be over so I can just curl up in Angel's arms.  
  
"SHE IS NOT LEAVING!!! THIS ISN'T JUST SOME HOPELESS SOUL I'M HELPING, CORDY, THIS IS BUFFY. BUFFY. THE WOMEN I LOVE. SO *BUTT* *OUT*."  
  
Silence from down the hall. Gee, maybe Angel hasn't ever yelled at Cordelia like that before. I can't say that she didn't deserve it. And it took him long enough to get there, too. In my opinion, he should have yelled at her the first time she suggested that I leave.  
  
Cordelia and Angel walk huffily into the room, both looking miserable. I feel my heart constrict for Angel. I know that Cordelia is his friend and that he doesn't want to hurt her, and I can tell by the look on his face that he feels guilty for yelling at her. Although, I'm full of tension and tight muscles and I know that only one thing can cure it.  
  
First things, first though. "Where's Dawn?" I ask Angel stiffly, I'm still a little peeved at him, I must admit.  
  
"In bed," he answers wearily, "still sleeping."  
  
I shake my head. "She's a teenager."  
  
"Dawn's here?" Cordelia mutters in astonishment at the same time that Fred and Gunn say, "Whose Dawn?"  
  
"Yes. Sister." I reply. Since that is done with, I can move on to bigger and better things. I look at Angel hungrily. "I'm a little tense.."  
  
"Really?" he responds tiredly.  
  
I nod. "And there's something I think you can do about it.."  
  
****  
  
"I'm impressed. I've always thought about turning my basement into a work out room, but then I died so that didn't exactly work out.."  
  
Angel gives me a pained smile. I don't think he likes it when I mention the dying thing. Also, I think he's a little grumpy from the whole confrontation thing earlier. So, really, my idea is a perfect one considering the circumstances. Me slayer. You vampire. Always the perfect training partner, and we haven't been able to train together in so long. And I must admit, this basement does make a nice little room for combat.  
  
I glance at a pair of swords left out. "Who are those for?"  
  
Angel barely looks up. "Me and Cordy. I was teaching her how to fight with them."  
  
I give a little chuckle. "That must have been interesting."  
  
"She's very good," Angel states without missing a beat.  
  
I ignore the jealousy gnawing in my stomach. "Bet she isn't as good as me."  
  
Angel comes up behind me and looks at the swords in contempt. I give him a shiver, as I remember running him through with a sword. He lifts the sword and tests the weight in his hand. I don't even flinch. Leaving my guard open to a vampire like this is very dangerous and my senses are screaming at me to fight him and get out of the way of the weapon.  
  
But my heart trusts him with my life.  
  
I pick up the other sword. And the fight begins. My body gets into the rhythm right away. Angel is stronger then any vampire that I have fought in a long time, and it takes a great deal of exertion to keep up with his moves. He is nothing but a blur to me as he kicks and punches, blocks and swings. I know every move and every direction he will take. I match him blow for blow, kick for kick.  
  
I am sweating and I'm getting tired, but nothing has felt this good in a long time. I forgot what it was like to train with Angel. To know someone so intimately that I can use all my strength against, but never worry about hurting, is a feeling I thought left when he did. I can feel him weakening also, and I know that one of us will have to end the fight soon. I concentrate on the hunter within me and wait for the perfect opening.  
  
Angel's sword clashes against my own, in a vibration shakes my both my arms down to my shoulders. But I take the opportunity by lashing out in a vicious roundhouse kick that I apologize for silently, and in the same motion I knock his sword away until it clatters to the other side of the room. Angel finds himself on his back with my sword pointed over his heart.  
  
"Say uncle," I command cheerfully. Angel groans in pain and rolls his head back. "I don't hear anything."  
  
Angel glares at me. "Uncle," he puffs.  
  
I take the sword away and give him a hand up. It's only then that I notice the audience that we have accumulated. Fred, Gunn, Cordelia, and Wesley are standing on the stairs with their mouths hanging open.  
  
"You're the slayer," Gunn breathes.  
  
Angel and I both tick our eyes at him in an annoyed glance, before hobbling painfully over to the corner where there is water and a towel.  
  
Cordelia raises her hand. "Who else votes to *never* make them mad?"  
  
Fred raises her hand. "That was amazing. You were just a blur of shape and colour until BANG!" Fred hit her hands together, causing us to all jump in surprise. "Angel ended up in a big pile on the floor."  
  
I smirk at him. "So, think I've improved at all?"  
  
"You're strong. Stronger than me." Angel admits, but it doesn't seem to surprise him. "You've always been."  
  
I lick my lips, as I take in the fact that he isn't wearing a shirt, and his chest is gleaming with a thin sheath of sweat. I remind myself to get control. I'm not a horny teenager. I can deal with a sweaty, half-naked, Angel. "You've," I pause for control, "you've gotten better, too."  
  
Angel is looking at me with an intense gaze that I'm sure can only mirror my own. "Slayers get stronger as they age.."  
  
"Really?" I'm not really paying attention anymore. I'm looking more at his lips, the way they curve so elegantly when he talks..  
  
"Ahem!" Angel and I look up sharply. Cordelia rolls her eyes. "Fine. Buffy's going to be here a while. It doesn't mean that we have to start going all gagga in the training room. Besides I'm hungry."  
  
"And you never did make that breakfast that you said you were," Gunn pointed out.  
  
Angel sighs and looks at me apologetically. "Hungry?"  
  
Faith's words echo in my head hungry and horny. That girl always did manage to get things down to their simplest nature. Angel moves to put on a shirt, and I try to feel only mildly disappointed. It's not like we could actually do anything anyway. Although, the view was fairly nice.  
  
"I'm starved."  
  
The End. 


	8. Hope and Home

Title: Hope and Home. Number 8 in the Death series.  
Author: Goldy  
Email: thegoldoneb_a@hotmail.com  
Disclaimer: I do not own Dork!Angel, Saint!Cordelia, Brad, or the travesty that is Buffy. What I do own is the originals of all those characters… hehe.  
Spoilers: None. Except for maybe some of my earlier stories in this series.  
A/N: There is NO CONNOR in this. No SPUFFY SCREWEDGE, and NO ANTICHEMISTRY! This series is getting more and more AU as the seasons progress. I am NOT planning on bringing Darla into this series at all, which means there will be NO Connor. My brain has enough to worry about…  
A/N: Yes. The title is all mine. All mine I tell you! Except, Jennem came up with it. And I had nothing at all to do with it… but other than that… definitely mine.   
Dedication: To Jennem, cause she is the BEST beta and great title thinker. To Lokoa cause she always gives GREAT feedback. To Ducks cause I'm so glad to have her back! And to anyone else that has kept up with this series, I LOVE YOU ALL!  
Feedback: Oooooh, yes yes yes! A million times yes!  
  
I blink. Once. Twice. Three times. The world slowly slides back into focus. My room. My house. Sunnydale.  
  
I'm back in Sunnydale.  
  
With a jolt, I snap back to reality. I give a quick glance around and realize that my arms are hovering in the air over a box I was packing up. I remember now. I came to Sunnydale because Willow needs to talk to me, and I'm packing up the last of my stuff from my room.  
  
I stand and give a long drawn out stretch. Glancing at my watch, I realize that only five minutes have passed. I do that sometimes. Stare off into space and get so caught up in my own little world that I don't notice the time ticking along. I don't think it's dangerous… it's just something I do. A psychologist would probably say that it's a side affect of being brought back from the dead.   
  
Maybe I'll mention it to Willow. I've started calling them my "blank spells," which is what they really are. I haven't told Angel yet… I don't want to worry him. But it will be good to tell Willow.  
  
Willow.  
  
She wants to talk to me. I think it's about Angel's soul. She kind of hinted to me about it during the phone call that made me rush down here. She had muttered something about sex and the world in mortal danger.  
  
The happiness clause.  
  
The last month has been had, no questioning that fact. But I kept busy. I got Dawn into a new school, I settled my finances with Angel's help, and I patrolled. The latter was done mostly by myself. Angel always tells me not to. He says that Cordy gets visions and we go and help those people. I tell him that I'm the slayer and it's *my* job to patrol and not wait for Cordelia to get a bunch of stupid visions. Then he tells me he worries about me when I'm out alone. Meanwhile, he looks deep into my eyes and does that whole don't-yell-at-me-for-caring-about-you face. Of course, that makes me want to either kiss him or throw him into a wall. Since neither is appropriate at that time, I usually make some flip remark about patrolling on the Hellmouth alone for two years. Which is then followed by me stomping out with a huge urge to kill something.  
  
Sometimes, though, Angel goes with me. Which is great. I love having him watch my back… and it's no secret that we make a deadly, nearly unbeatable team. The only problem is, with the whole killing/exerting great amounts of energy thing, we end up kissing.  
  
And that's amazing and passionate and thrilling… which is bad.  
  
So, mostly, I patrol alone.  
  
Mostly, I do everything alone.  
  
Mostly, I avoid him.  
  
Mostly, we end up on each other, anyway.   
  
There have been some close calls. He says it's nothing that he can't handle. He says he has control over himself. He says he would never risk letting out Angelus again.  
  
Yeah, but he also slept with Darla.  
  
I sigh. Definitely not a subject I want to think about. I finally heard the whole story about what happened last year with him and her. How Wolfram & Hart brought her back in order to drive him crazy and bring him to their side. He told me about how he fired Cordy, Wes, and Gunn to keep them from seeing that side of him. He told me about the hopelessness he felt and how he wanted to feel something.   
  
I think it's the most the guy has ever said before in one sitting.  
  
But I'm glad he told me. The shrinks always say that communication is the key to a healthy and trustworthy relationship. I guess it's a start, but it doesn't really make things all that much easier for Angel and I. I'm glad that he told me, though, for other reasons, too. It makes me realize that he knows what I'm going through. He knows that what it feels like to be on the outside of life, trapped in your own jail of despair.  
  
Actually, that was one of our closer calls. He had looked so alone and desperate just telling the story… and I could identify with him so well. When our lips had touched that night, I knew that we felt closer to each other than we had in a long time. We were so close to losing ourselves in each other. I think the only thing that stopped us was Angel's mind-set to "do it right."  
  
For lack of nothing better to do, I repack the box. It doesn't have much in it… a few pictures, candles, clothes. My room doesn't have much left in it except a bed and a few shelves.   
  
I hope Willow gets here soon.  
  
She said that classes end at two. It's three.  
  
What if she forgets?  
  
Can Angel and I be okay? Can we keep going… so in love… yet so doomed if we dare show that love?  
  
Willow will come.  
  
I miss him. I said that I needed to come to Sunnydale alone, and he had told me he understood and would take care of Dawn. I think I just needed to clear my head out… take a breather after the change in course my life had just taken. But I miss him.  
  
I need him so much. It's true what I said so long ago… I don't care about sunlight and children. I just want my life to be with him. Sure, it's frustrating to be so close and not be able to go all the way. But I need him.  
  
I need him like I need food, water, and shelter. I need him like I need a warm bed and clothes. I just plain need him.  
  
I hear a noise downstairs. It must be Willow. I give my room one last deep survey. The walls are bare, and the bed has been stripped of its sheets. Empty. Lifeless. Those are the only words I can think of to describe the scene. Sometimes I still feel that way… but I'm getting better.  
  
This isn't my room anymore.  
  
Soon this room will belong to another girl. Maybe she'll move here with her mother after her parents split up. Maybe her mother will try and open a gallery. Maybe the girl will feel lost and alone and wonder if she was the real reason her parents called it quits. Maybe she'll make the best friends she will ever have with the school geek and the school loser.  
  
Maybe she'll stay up late and talk on the phone about boys. Maybe she'll find time to study. Maybe she'll take up cheerleading. Maybe she'll go to her high school dance without drowning first. Maybe she'll make love for the first time to a man that will be there when she wakes up. Maybe she won't have to send him to hell. Maybe she won't run away that summer. Maybe she'll start her senior year with all the other kids. Maybe the biggest worry she and her friends will have will be whose dating whom.   
  
Maybe she'll be normal.   
  
My eyes tick to the window by the bed. It's open and a cool breeze washes through the room. In a trance, I walk towards it. Memories of stolen kisses and forbidden passion steal over me. I used to sit by that window whenever I felt lost or alone. I never would have admitted it, but I was always waiting for him to come back to me. After Riley and I had sex in my bed, I would stand in front of my window waiting for him to come home to me.   
  
I turn away from the window. I can hear Willow shuffling around downstairs. I now that she is looking for me. Soon she'll check in here, but I don't want her to find me here. It's my last chance to really say good-bye to my old life. It's strange, but I feel that she would ruin it if she came up here.  
  
I pass the mirror on my way out of the room. It's standing over my empty bureau. I pause for a minute and examine myself. I look worn and tired… but still the same. Blonde hair and green eyes… by all appearances I look like a regular 20-year-old girl. It doesn't show all that I've been through. The mirror doesn't show all the horrors that I've faced and that are continually reflected on my persona.  
  
I turn away from the mirror.  
  
I pause again in the door to my room. I can't quite let go… and I feel this heaviness come over me. This is it. The last chapter in the life of 'Buffy the Sunnydale Girl.' Somehow it saddens me. Everything is still, and I feel a sharp pang thinking of Mom. The house always felt alive when she was in it. Now it's all empty, just like this room. I close my eyes and hope that when I open them this will all be a nightmare, and I'll wake up 12 years earlier, watching Saturday morning cartoons squished between Mommy and Daddy.   
  
Without opening my eyes, I turn away and say a final good-bye.   
  
I open my eyes and march down the hall. I stop at the staircase and resist the urge to take one last look.   
  
"Normal is over-rated anyway," I mutter, as I force myself down the stairs.  
  
I meet Willow at the bottom. She is standing near the door as if she isn't sure she had been properly invited in. She has her arms wrapped around her chest like she's afraid of something. Like she's afraid of me.  
  
I give her a cautious smile. "Hey."  
  
Her eyes sum me up slowly. Shakily she meets my eyes. "Hey."  
  
"How have you been?"  
  
"Fine. You?"  
  
"Not bad."  
  
Willow forces out another shy embarrassed smile. I feel like screaming. The forced politeness is something that's hard to take in. It didn't use to be hard for Willow and I to talk. Even when I went away for whole summers, I could still come back and patch things up with my good buddy Willow.   
  
I miss her.  
  
Both of us. The girl I used to be, and the girl that she used to be. "So…" I say, willing to try and say anything to break the silence, "don't just stand there in the doorway! Come on in!"  
  
Willow looks hesitant. "You sure?"  
  
I give her a baffled look. "Of course I'm sure."  
  
"If I say something that you probably won't like are you going to kick me out again?"  
  
I feel the first pangs of nervousness. And I realize that something is wrong about this situation. If she has good news about Angel's soul, then she wouldn't be on my doorstep looking like she might run away. Xander, Anya, and Tara would probably be here if she had found some good news.  
  
The first pang of fear creeps its way into my stomach.  
  
"I won't kick you out," I promise.  
  
Willow comes into my house. "I have something to tell you," she mumbles, looking as if she really doesn't want to share.  
  
I force out a smile. Everything is fine. This isn't about Angel. It can't be about Angel. "Sit down," I gesture towards the couches, and Willow sits.  
  
Standing in front of her I resist the urge to start pacing. "Can I get you anything?"  
  
Willow looks a little confused. I don't think I've ever asked her if she needed anything before. Things were never that strenuous between us that I had to treat her like an everyday house guest. "I'm fine."  
  
Sitting down opposite her, I wipe my sweaty palms against my pants. I wish that Angel was here with me. Whenever he's near I can be so much stronger. One touch or smile is enough to calm me. "So… where are you living now?"  
  
"You mean now that you left?"  
  
She doesn't say it, but I hear the unspoken bitterness in her voice that says 'You mean where am I living now that I brought you back from the dead, and you abandoned me?' "Yeah… now that I'm selling this place."  
  
"I moved back into the dorms," Willow answers with a shrug.  
  
"With Tara?"   
  
Willow's eyes fill with tears. "At first."  
  
I wait for more, but she doesn't share. I wonder what's happened. Why does Willow look so tired and worn down? "Willow what's going on?" I demand, not being able to keep the frustration out of my voice. "Why did you want to see me?"  
  
A gasp tears its way out of Willow's system. "She said that I wasn't being careful enough. She said that it was going to get me in trouble."  
  
"Tara said?"  
  
Willow nods, tears beginning to track down her cheeks.  
  
"About what?" I prod, trying to keep my voice soothing.  
  
"Magic," she croaks, "Tara said that I was depending on it too much. And she found out that I'd been casting a spell on her."  
  
My blood runs cold. "You… you cast a spell on her?"  
  
"It wasn't a big one!" Willow protests, "just something to make her forget about our fight!"  
  
"Oh god," I murmur. I look at her sharply. "What else have you done?"   
  
Willow retreats into herself as if I've struck her. "I de-ratted Amy."  
  
"What did you guys do?" I ask in a no-nonsense tone.  
  
She looks away from me. "I don't want to talk about it."  
  
"Well, you're going to have to! Willow you have a problem!" Willow shook a little, and I lowered my voice to a more soothing tone. "Tell me what happened."  
  
"She knew someone… Buffy you don't know what it was like… the power," she shivered. "It was like nothing I had ever felt before."  
  
I lick my lips. "I'm sure it wasn't."  
  
Willow's eyes focus on me. "I need help, Buffy."  
  
"No kidding. Did you hurt anyone?"  
  
Shame twists Willow's features. "Anya. I could have killed her. Xander… he…" Willow gulps, "I thought that he might never talk to me again. But he said cold turkey. I can't do anymore magic. Ever."  
  
Willow watches my face as I take in the news. A cold fear washes over me, as I take in the meaning of her words. She won't help Angel. She can't help him. I can feel the hope die inside of me. She can't bind Angel's soul.  
  
"I'm sorry, Buffy," she whispers, "there's nothing I can do. If I did find some way to help him… it would probably be more dangerous. I don't trust myself anymore."  
  
I find the courage to nod. I want so much to be mad at her. I want to lash out and be able to blame her for not being able to help us. But I can't blame her. I know what it's like to be on the brink of something that you can't control.  
  
But the knowing doesn't make the news any easier.  
  
"I found some things," she adds, when I don't say anything. "On the Internet. Without using magic. I want you to look through them. I'll keep looking for spells and things, maybe you can find someone else to bind his soul."  
  
I take the papers she's holding out in her trembling hand. Maybe she's right. Maybe Angel and I can find someone else to do it. But I feel numbness as I realize that to find someone as strong as Willow that doesn't abuse their power was a slim chance. The hope in me dies a little more.  
  
"Buffy say something," she pleads, "I couldn't stand it if you hated me, too. I need help to get through this… I need my best friend."  
  
I take her hands. "I don't hate you." I look her straight in the eye. "You can get through this, Willow. I don't blame you for not being able to help with Angel's soul."  
  
Willow grips my hand with grateful relief. "Thank you," she manages to say.  
  
I get up. "Don't mention it."  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
I stand, for possibly the last time in my house on Revello Dr., and I think about the question she just asked me. "For a walk," I finally answer.  
  
****  
  
The night swirls around me in a deadly dance of cool air. My last patrol in Sunnydale, I reflect with an ironic smile. Although, it probably won't be the last. This is the Hellmouth, after all. And I am the slayer, after all. I'll be back.   
  
But for now it's enough to think that it is the last. Already, I can't wait to be home. Home. The place where Angel lives. The place where I live. It's amazing how quickly I've come to accept that he is home. I think that home for me has always been him… the only times that I've ever felt really safe was in his arms. It just took me a long time to accept that.   
  
I wonder what he's doing right now. Is he sitting in his room reading? Or is he helping the others research a case? Is he out fighting a demon? Or is he taking time to think about me? Cordelia confided in me that he spent a lot of time thinking about me before I showed up in LA with him. She said that he used to get a 'Buffy Face' which meant that he would disappear and brood for hours at a time.   
  
I smile a little thinking about Cordelia. At first things had been really hard and tense between us. Both of us had very strong opinions about what we thought was best for Angel. Eventually, once she realized that I wasn't going anywhere, we learned to tolerate each other. Now, I'm even kind of fond of her. She grows on you, like one of those big fat grouchy cats.  
  
I kick at a rock lying on the ground. It rolls down the road and out of sight. I wonder what Angel and I will do. I have my own room at the Hyperion, but I don't sleep without nightmares unless I'm in his arms. But every time I lie down in his embrace, the frustration grows stronger.   
  
If Willow can't bind his soul, who can?  
  
No one.  
  
My heart stops beating for a minute as I contemplate that. If Angel's soul is always in trouble will I have to leave him? What exactly is true happiness for him? Just knowing that he might lose his soul and revert to Angelus might be enough to ensure that he might never be truly happy again.   
  
I kick at another pebble, this time so hard that it goes flying and I hear the snap of a branch somewhere off in the distance. I guess that I should be grateful that it wasn't someone's window that just broke.   
  
I stand still when I feel a vampire approach. Senses wheel in my head, until I realize whom the vampire is. Then I panic just a little bit.  
  
A cigarette butt flies through the air and lands perfectly in front of me. I pin my eyes on the dark shadow standing still in the woods. Normal humans probably wouldn't be able to tell where the vampire was. But I can. I'm the slayer.  
  
"What do you want?" I demand, my voice sharp and hollow.  
  
The figure saunters out of the woods and calmly leans against the trunk of a tree, smoking another cigarette. "You haven't been around here lately, slayer."  
  
I scowl. "Better places to be. And better company."   
  
Spike looks a little miffed. "That's all the thanks I get? Have you forgotten, pet, all those times I saved you and lil' bit?"  
  
"Funny. I also remember all the times you tried to kill us."  
  
Spike softens a little. "A man can change. I did… I fell in lo—"  
  
"NO. No, you didn't, Spike. You're a SOULESS DEMON. You don't have any idea what love is. You *can't* change." I turn my back on him, planning on ignoring him.   
  
Spike grabs my arm and hauls me around. "I bloody well do know about love! I know what I feel about you…"  
  
I push him off. "You don't feel anything for me. And it doesn't matter, I wouldn't touch you in a million years."  
  
Spike laughs. "Seems to me that no one will touch *you*. I can practically feel the sexual frustration coming off you in waves."  
  
I clench my teeth. "You don't know what you're talking about."  
  
He mockingly raises his eyebrows at me. "The soul in soulboy getting in the way?"  
  
Without thinking I backhand him as hard as I can. Stumbling from the force of my hit, he backs into a tree. He grins at me through the blood that pours down his split lips. "Didn't Angel promise to stake you if you ever bothered me again?"  
  
"My grandsire isn't here at the moment, luv."  
  
I flinch a little at the arrogance in his voice. "Yeah, but I'm sure that he'd be delighted to hear that you're hanging around Sunnydale."  
  
Spike licks suggestively at the blood pooling at the corner of his mouth. "Why? You not a big enough woman to off me yourself?" I glare at him, and ignore his words. "So what's up with Red's little problem with magic?" he continues, "heard that she was quitting. That puts you and your boy into quite an interesting position."   
  
"Look, as much fun as I find myself not having, I have much better ways to spend my time than talking to you."  
  
"You just don't get it, slayer." Spike takes a long drawn out puff on his cigarette. "You can't get rid of me. Wherever you turn, I'll show up. Whenever you're on patrol, I'll be there. Whenever you go to bed at night, I'll watch. I'm always there."  
  
I feel a chill travel down my spine. He's serious. I focus my eyes on a point down the street. Sticking to it, I walk forward in the direction I had been going before I was interrupted.  
  
Spike steps in front of me.  
  
"Get out of my way," I hiss.  
  
"What if I don't feel like it?"  
  
I fold my arms over my chest. "I don't want to fight you if I don't have to."  
  
He doesn't move. "Fine."  
  
My arm shoots out lightening quick. The dust swifts around me before he has time to blink.   
  
"But we don't always get what we want, right Spike?" I say. The cold silence of the night is my only answer. Without feeling any regret, I shove the stake back up my sleeve and head off.   
  
It's time to go home.  
  
****  
  
The drive to L.A passes slowly. Angel finally taught me to drive, but he insists that I go the speed limit. I'm left alone on the road with nothing to keep me company but my thoughts.  
  
I killed Spike.  
  
I feel the tiniest pangs of shame. The world probably wouldn't miss him any, but he had saved my life numerous times and that had to count for something. But I couldn't deal with him anymore. I couldn't deal with the snide remarks and that smart-ass grin.  
  
Boy, Angel is really going to like me tonight. Willow can't do magic. His soul is never going to be glued in tight. And I killed his grandchilde. Although, I can't imagine that the latter will upset him all that much.  
  
I pull over by the side of the road to get my shaking hands under control. Stopping the car, I lean heavily against the back of my seat. Taking deep, calming breaths, I wait until the shaking has stopped before revving the car and continuing down the highway. It's only then that I realize that I left the box I'd been packing in the house. Letting out a cold laugh, I grip the steering wheel harder thinking about the box I'd been packing up in my room. Oh, well. It doesn't matter now. I'm not going back for it.  
  
It's close to dawn when I pull up in front of the hotel. Walking stiffly, I wander in and hope that Angel is home because I don't like to think about him being out so close to sunrise. Inside, my quick senses alert me to the fact that my mate is not there. Fighting disappointment, I regard Gunn sitting at the main desk with his head drooped on the counter and his eyes closed.  
  
I give a cough, and fight the urge to laugh as he jumps up looking as white as a sheet. "Oh… it's just you," he mumbles fuzzily.  
  
I give a little smile. "Just me."  
  
"Man, you and Angel are way too quiet for the good of a normal person."  
  
"I'll remember that. Where's Angel?"  
  
Gunn shrugs. "Don't know. Got stuck on baby-sitting duty."  
  
I feel a little relieved. Despite the sarcastic note in Gunn's voice, I know he's quite fond of Dawn. Angel explained that he lost his sister to a vampire over a year ago. "She in bed?"  
  
Gunn nods. "She wanted to look at some of Wesley's books. I told her that she was going to have to wait a few more years, but she insisted that she was allowed."  
  
I frown, thinking about how Wesley's books sometimes depict some not so nice pictures. "I would never let her look at those!"  
  
Gunn and I share a look. "Angel," we say simultaneously. "Probably thinks that it will do her good or something," I mutter.  
  
"Crazy for a kid to know how to defend herself," he says sarcastically.  
  
I glare at him. "She doesn't need to know how to defend herself. She has me."  
  
"What if you aren't there?" he questions.  
  
I sigh, and lean wearily against the wall. "Let's hope it never comes to that."  
  
At that moment I hear some banging and rustling, and the doors of the Hyperion fly open to present us with four haggard looking people all talking at once.  
  
"Okay, ewww! Why couldn't the vision have warned me about the slime? There's only so many new outfits I can buy on the salary I get paid here!"  
  
"Wesley, why didn't you tell me that they reproduce if you cut them in half?"  
  
"It turns out that these were descendants of the family I originally thought they belonged to…"  
  
"When did demons get so big? Because those were big demons… Buffy! You're back!"  
  
I can't hide my grin. Of all the people that Angel has made friends with in L.A, Fred is definitely my favourite. "Hey Fred."  
  
Cordelia sums me up. "Buffy you look… awful."  
  
"Thanks Cor. I missed you, too." I smirk. "But, you are the one covered in demon goo."  
  
She winces. "Forget I said that last remark."  
  
My eyes land on Angel, and I have to fight the urge to run into his arms and cover him in kisses. "It's getting close to dawn," I say in greeting. "Is it fun to see how long it takes before turning to dust?"  
  
"I know what I'm doing," he answers flippantly.  
  
Everyone around us exchanges meaningful glances. "Know what?" Gunn says, "I say the rest of us catch a quick early morning breakfast."  
  
Cordelia nods. "Far, far, away from here."   
  
"I heard that someone just opened a diner down the street," Wesley offers.  
  
"Good, good," Gunn grabs his coat and heads out of the hotel after Wesley and Cordelia. Fred hangs back and gives me a supporting smile before heading out after the gang.  
  
"I take it Sunnydale wasn't a great trip," Angel says once they're gone.  
  
"You take it right."  
  
"What happened?" he asks gently.  
  
I sigh. "A lot." Giving him a quick run-down, I watch as his face changes from hopeful to disappointed. When I get to part about Spike, he scowls and lets out a possessive growl.  
  
"Don't tell Dawn," I beg when I'm done with my story. Angel gives me a baffled look. "She liked him," I explain, "for whatever reason, she actually liked him."  
  
"I'm glad you killed him," Angel states in a firm voice. "It was past time that someone did."  
  
"Are you sure that you're not just jealous?"   
  
Angel shoots me a hurt look, which just makes me shrug. "Maybe partly because of jealousy," he admits, "but Spike isn't safe. Whether or not he has a chip in his head."  
  
"I know but… he has saved my life, Angel. I think that he really did love me." Angel lets out a deep rumble from deep inside his chest.  
  
"He isn't capable of love. He's a *soulless* demon."  
  
"It doesn't really matter. He's gone now." I feel a touch of sadness that I can't for the life of me understand. "I can't help but think that if Willow hadn't told me that she couldn't bind your soul, then I wouldn't have staked him."  
  
Angel sighs. "It doesn't matter what could have happened. Spike is ash. As, I think, he should be."   
  
I look up at him. "What are we going go to do? I can't leave you…."  
  
Angel closes his eyes. "I know. It doesn't matter. We'll find another way."  
  
"But what if there isn't another way? It so hard for me to be around you and not be able to touch you."  
  
"Maybe we should stay away from each other," Angel suggests, sounding like that was the last thing he wanted to do.  
  
"No, I can't do that." I walk up to him, and gently place my hand against his cheek. "I can't live without you again."   
  
He draws me against him, and I relax. I'm home… in Angel's arms I'm home. "We'll be careful," he whispers in my ear.  
  
I hold him tight. "We'll find another way."  
  
He takes a shaky breath. "Another way," he repeats. "There's always another way."  
  
"There has to be."  
  
END… until, of course, #9  
  
A/N: Yes, *gulp* I did kill Spike. Couldn't help it. I was feeling anger towards his character Hehe… Cordelia better watch out… Goldy is out for blood!


	9. Keep on Running Interlude

Title: Keep on Running (interlude in Death series)

Author: Goldy

Email: **thegoldoneb_a@hotmail.com**

Disclaimer: Excuse me while I run out of the room and curse JW, MN, DG, and a network called the WB. BUT I do want to give credit where it is deserved, and No Doubt is the one with the fabulous song that I used, and I've decided that 'Running' is the theme song for 'Even Death' but especially for this story. AND I have to thank No Doubt for the title because it came from the song.

Synopsis: Purely B/A mush. With a little angst thrown in, cause I couldn't help myself. 

Rating: PG… I think

Dedication: No Doubt, cause I love their funky new album, and 'Running' couldn't have been a more perfect song to use for this series. And Jennem because she puts up with all my little mistakes and my lack of commas.

Feedback: Heh. I don't even know why I bother. Of course I want it!

[_Run, running all the time_

_Running to the future_

_With you right by my side_

_Me, I'm the one you chose_

_Out of all the people_

_You wanted me the most_

_And I'm so sorry that I've fallen _

_Help me up, let's keep on running_

_Don't let me fall out of love]_

Sand, hard and clumped together, stuck to her feet as she walked along. Her hair was tossed back, in disarray around her face from the breeze that was hard enough to keep away the mosquitoes but warm and caressing at the same time. The surf lapped lazily at the beach, creating blankets of white foam, and a shoreline dotted in seashells. The moonlight, reflected on the water, rippled and danced in tune with the waves.

Taking a deep breath of sea air, Buffy threw her head back and felt a high pitched giggle come up her throat. "I love it!" she declared.

Angel watched her, his mood subdued, but not quite enough to suppress the surge of contentment he felt watching her. Her eyes were twinkling with a joy that he hadn't seen in years. Her laugh was loud and carefree, and her smile came naturally rather than the fake one that she so often opted to use. Buffy twirled up to him, and without thinking threw her arms around his neck.

"Thank you," she whispered in his ear.

Angel immediately pulled away, aware of the agony it caused them both to be close. "I'm glad you like it," he said, watching her face.

Disappointed at having to separate, Buffy pushed away her hurt and reminded herself how painful it was for him to know that they could ever be as close as they wanted. "The beach," she sighed in happiness, "I love the beach."

Angel gave her a weak smile. "It's pretty nice."

Buffy's eyes ticked to the ocean, so vast and spread out, black and seemingly endless in the night. "It isn't nice, it's beautiful."

Angel followed her gaze. "It is."

"Why did you bring me here?" Buffy asked abruptly.

Angel kept his voice carefully stoic. "I don't know."

Buffy turned away from the ocean so that she could rest a heavy slayer gaze on him. "Yes, you do. And I want to know."

Angel sighed. "I wanted to take you somewhere nice."

"Why? So we can remind ourselves how hard it is?"

"Buffy… no… I didn't mean…"

Buffy walked away from him. Barefooted, she wandered carefully towards the ocean. Her earlier happiness forgotten, she slowly stuck one of her toes into the salty water and shivered a little from the cold shock. A fine breeze picked up at the same time, spraying her in a mist of water. Giggling, she realized that it was impossible for her to stay angry when she was at the beach.__

Coming back to Angel, she was careful to ignore his pleading looks. "It's perfect here," she said in way of apology when she reached him.

Angel looked at her hopefully. "I'm sorry… I didn't want to make things harder between us."

She smiled graciously and resisted the urge to snuggle up in his arms. "I know. I'm sorry, too. You know me, I'm a bitch."

"You're no such thing!" Angel scolded.

"You're sweet. Still a terrible liar, though."  

"Buffy…."

She shook her head. "It's okay. I was making a funny." 

Angel shifted uncomfortably. 

Sighing, Buffy lay down and sprawled backwards onto the sand. Staring up at the stars she gave a slow peaceful smile. "This is nice. Quiet. Good way to get away from it all."

Nervously Angel sat down next to her. "I hate sand," he grumbled. 

"I love it," Buffy murmured, "the way that it's rough against your skin… yet wet and soft."

 "Sticks to your hair," Angel complained.

"Please! If you didn't wear so much hair gel, you wouldn't have that problem." 

Angel flashed an earth-shattering smile, and Buffy noticed that he had finally relaxed slightly. "I saw how much cosmetics you keep in the bathroom, a little hair gel is nothing to get snide over."

Buffy popped herself up on one elbow. "I wasn't getting snide." She shifted a little closer to him. "I was merely pointing out a fact."

"Sure," Angel replied, watching her through guarded eyelids.

Cautiously she slid closer. "Angel?"

"Hmm?" 

"Do you think…" Buffy paused. "Maybe if," she blushed, "it wouldn't be bad if…."

Angel nodded cutting off her garbled words. Without another sound, Buffy gratefully moved until she could lean comfortable against him. Angel's arms encircled her, his fingertips gently moving over her stomach.

Buffy shivered and closed her eyes. She missed this. It had been almost a week since she had told Angel that Willow wouldn't be able to bind his soul. It has been almost a week since Angel had allowed himself to touch her, going as far to almost run in fright every time they were in the same room. 

Angel leaned back against the sand, and Buffy curled up comfortably against his side. "This is okay, right?" she whispered. Angel made a sound that Buffy thought meant yes. "What are you thinking about right now?"

Angel took a moment before answering. "You." Gently, he played with the tips of her hair sprawled against his chest. "I love you."

Buffy looked up at the stars over-head and thought that nothing could ever be so perfect. She was on a beach with Angel, taking a break from patrol and looking after Dawn. She was doing something normal couples probably did every night. But for the Slayer, it was a moment worth treasuring.

[_Running, running as fast as we can_

_Do you think we'll make it?_

_We're running, keep holding my hand_

_So we don't get separated_

_Be, be the one I need_

_Be the one I trust most_

_Don't stop inspiring me_

_Sometimes it's hard to keep on running_

_We work so much to keep it going_

_Don't make me want to give up]_

"I'm sorry that I've been so distant this week," Angel continued, when Buffy didn't say anything.

Buffy snorted. "Distant is an understatement." Angel lapsed into silence and Buffy almost regretted her words. "It's hard," she finally admitted. "Knowing that the Powers do everything they can to make things harder for us."

"It is."

"Angel, did you…" Buffy gulped, "have you thought about us separating?"

"Buffy…" his voice was pleading, implying that she wasn't going to like the answer.

Turning, she faced him. His arm possessively wrapped around her waist, and she had to fight not to react to his nearness. "I need to know."

"I have," he said slowly. "I thought about it a lot. Buffy, when I'm around you… it's so easy to forget what I am. I think about what a miracle it was that you were given back to me, and I had a hope that Willow might find a spell to bind my soul. Now that's gone, and I don't know how to be around you."

Pressing a finger to his lips, Buffy pleaded with him silently with her eyes.  "Like this. When you hold me… it's enough."

Angel pulled sharply away from her. "That's just it!" he cried. "Being around you is enough! Being in the same room as you tears at me!" Angel looked directly into her pained eyes. "Every time I see you, the world is in danger."

Buffy stood up on wobbly legs. "You're right," she said in a tightly controlled voice.

Angel reached for her, "Buffy, I didn't…."

"No. You're right." Shaky, she took a few steps away from him. "I'm being so selfish. I need you. I never thought about how that might effect you… or others. The only thing I want is to be around you." Her voice broke slightly, and Angel could hear her pain. "I just wanted to be around you… and it didn't matter what you had to go through."

Angel forced himself to remain on the ground, when all he really wanted to do was get up and shake her. "You aren't selfish."

"I am… I never thought about how my living with you would effect you…"

"I can take care of my own feelings quite well," Angel snapped. "Now stop trying to pull away from me."

"I'm not…"

"You are," Angel cut in forcefully. "I said that I thought about separation. It doesn't mean that it's going to happen. But if we're going to work this out, you need to be able to sit and talk to me without running away."

Buffy fumed. "Great." Buffy took a step towards him, fists balled. "You're not exactly the best person to be scolding on running away and not working things out." 

"I'm not running now."

Buffy snorted. "Are you trying to make me angry? Cause…" Buffy faulted noting the amused expression on his face. "You *are* trying to make me angry!" 

"Worked well, didn't it?" Angel replied calmly.

Buffy gave a short chuckle, and joined him back on the sand. "Okay, I'm not running. I'm here to talk things out. I'm-talking-things-out-Buffy.

"I'm glad to hear it," Angel said.

"What are we going to do?" she blurted.

Angel sighed and looked away. "I don't know." 

After a moment's hesitation, Buffy snuggled back against him, relieved when he held on to her tight. "If this is too much…"

Angel pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "It's fine," he whispered in her ear.

"Angel," Buffy whimpered, grabbing onto his arms, almost in an effort to keep him with her. "I love you so much…"

He held her closer to him. "I'm not going anywhere. We've come too far this year."

Buffy nodded. "We're both older now."

Angel gave a ghost of a smile. "I know what you mean."

Overcome with emotion she leaned back against him, loving the way that his fingers felt tickling over her skin as he traced patterns over her arm and stomach. Closing her eyes Buffy once again felt herself surge with contentment. She could hear the surf of the ocean crashing against the shore in a never-ending harmony. She could smell the salt of the ocean, tangy and bitter, but soothing. She was pressed tightly against Angel, and as far as she was concerned, she was never letting him go. 

Suddenly Angel shifted, and Buffy felt herself lying against the sand alone. With a cry of frustration, she reached out blindly for her lover. A gentle finger lifting her chin back stopping her from opening her eyes and looking for him. She felt his lips press down against hers, soft and sweet. A moan escaped her throat, and she felt his mouth curve into a tiny smile against her own. Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around his neck drawing him closer and deepening the kiss. 

Breathless seconds ticked by as he nursed her mouth. Hands reached, feeling and grasping as the kiss turned from soft and gentle to hard and desperate. Buffy's finger's combed restlessly through his hair, while her other hand blazed a trail over his solid chest and taut stomach. Angel's hands returned the favor, tracing her face and back, leaving fire where her skin had once been.

Buffy thought that she was in serious danger of losing it altogether when he pulled away, leaving her breathless and somehow unsatisfied. "Oh god," she gasped, falling backwards against the sand.

Angel leaned back on his haunches. "That was…."

"Amazing," Buffy finished, turning to stare at him.

Smiling a little, Angel noticed how her eyes shone and twinkled in the moonlight. Her cheeks were pink and her mouth red and swollen from his kisses. Reaching for her, all awkwardness was gone when she slid against him. She pressed her back against him, still breathing hard. 

"You're a good kisser," she said thoughtfully.

"Huh," Angel answered carefully. 

"Probably from hundreds of years of practice," Buffy mused aloud.

"You don't want to know."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I really don't."

Nipping at her ear, Angel whispered, "Was this the best date you've ever been on?" 

"You don't want to know."

Angel growled.

"Yes, Mr. Possessive, this was the best date," Buffy paused. "Ever."

"Good." Angel waited a beat, "I know that we don't have the best track record for dates…."

"No, we certainly don't."

With a dark look Angel continued, "But I want to take you out. And we can do stuff… we just need to be careful."

"Careful," she repeated, thinking about how her self-control had just been put to the test, and how it was evident that it failed miserably.

Giving her reassuring squeeze, Angel nodded. "I think that this… it's worth it."

"So we'll be careful? And we'll have dates? That's what we're going to do?" 

"And slay," he murmured, "and hunt, and look after Dawn, and help run an agency." As an afterthought, Angel added, "And try and get along with Cordelia."  

"Easy for you to say," Buffy muttered.

Leaning back, Buffy snuggled deeply against him. Angel stroked her hair lightly, letting himself feed off the life she gave him without taking too much. The waves crashed against the shore, the moon shone brightly in the night sky, and the stars seemed to laugh and twinkle. All the while, two warriors held each other, faced against impossible odds, knowing that they could conquer and be victorious.

Because sometimes love was worth it. 

[_Running, running as fast as we can_

_I really hope we make it_

_We're running, keep holding my hand_

_So we don't get separated]_

End 


	10. Drip Drip Drip pt A

Title: Drip Drip Drip pt. A (Number 9 in the Even Death series)

Author: Goldy

Email: **thegoldoneb_a@hotmail.com**

Disclaimer: *yawn* Believe me when I say they're much better left in my hands!

Summary: Stuff. And other stuff. OH! And a plot! Imagine that!

Rating: PG

Feedback: YES! Give me! It's been so long since I've had any feedback on this series!

Dedication: Jennem because she found time to fit me in even though she has so many exams to study for! And because I just love her so much!

She gasps, fighting for breath. Everything is blurred. She claws viciously trying to find her way out. Pain is felt, and she keeps pushing… she must get out.

Where is she?

Clawing, she keeps going… breathing… it hurts.

Fire, everywhere. Loud noises… not there, not here… where?

Trying to get out. Can't breathe. Can't talk. Can't scream. 

Where is she?

Everything is too bright… too loud… too much. 

Still she claws, a little harder, a little more forceful. The pain is deeper, but she keeps scratching. She can't think. She can only claw… she has to get out. 

She doesn't understand. Why are they doing this? Why is it hurting? Why can't she see? Why can't she get out?

She claws. The fire dims. She can't even think. Her breathing is harder… raspier… more labored. She claws.

The fire.

Burning.

Clawing.

Breathing.

Can't get out.

Her friends. Why? 

"Buffy?"

Where is she?

"Buffy!!!"

Can't get out.

"BUFFY!!!"

With a shocked gasp, she opens her eyes. For a moment she can't remember where she is. All she can see is darkness… blackness… hurt… confusion. 

 A cool hand touches her cheek, lightly, but with obvious concern. She relaxes. It's okay. She isn't inside her grave… she's here. With him.

"I'm okay," she whispers.

Angel's face hovers over hers, worry etched in his eyes. "You were dreaming again," he says softly. 

Closing her eyes for a moment, she tries to wash away the last bit of the nightmare. This isn't hell. This is life. Turning, she curls up against him. He holds her close, but not too close, gently rubbing her back and whispering words of comfort in her ear.

Soon she sleeps again.

But he doesn't. He can't. He watches. He watches her chest lift and fall to a steady rhythm. He makes sure that the dreams don't come to her, so that she can sleep peacefully.

And he tries not to think about his own dream. 

But soon the images come back. And he nods off. And he dreams again. 

***

He walks along a field. The day is bright and the sun is high in the air. The fact that he isn't burning doesn't cross his mind; perhaps it isn't even a possibility. All that matters is that the field stretches out before him, long and wide, and he has to cross it.

People he knows walk along the field. They come up to him, some talk, but he can't hear them. His father is there. Stern and tall, looking as disappointed with him as ever. Jenny Calendar walks by, and the pain and guilt rips through him. But she walks on, she doesn't notice him. *She's* there, too. He knows it. But he can't find her. He doesn't even know if he's supposed to be looking for her.

_Drip_

_Drip_

_Drip_

The field stops. He is in the woods. A chair that stretches up to the sky is the only thing standing in front of him. Darla sits in the chair, looking as calm as ever. Nothing about her has changed, but for one minor detail. And he knows, that detail… that detail makes everything different.

"You're pregnant," he mutters, flabbergasted.

She looks down at her round stomach like she hadn't noticed him before. Giving him a bored look she examines her nails. "Yeah. So?" 

"You're a vampire!" he exclaims.

She squints. "So are you."

"What kind of an answer is that?" he snaps. He doesn't want to be here. He doesn't want to have to talk to his sire.

Darla smiles sweetly. "It wasn't an answer."

He sighs in annoyance.__

_Drip_

_Drip_

_Drip_

Shaking his head, he glances around. The forest stretches out before him. "I don't know how to find her. Every day she keeps getting farther way from me."

Darla presses a hand to her belly. "Gee, isn't that sweet."

"Is the baby mine?" he asks, afraid of the answer.

She shrugs. "Perhaps. In another place and time. She's even farther away from you there. Here, now, it doesn't matter."

_Drip_

_Drip_

_Drip_

Feeling her presence sharply, he turns. Nothing but the rustle of trees greets him. "I can still save her, right?" he questions.

"Darling," Darla says with mild disgust. "That depends on you."

"On me? I don't understand!"

She sighs. "Angelus. It's your precious slayer." She sneers at him, "If there's a way, you'll find it."  Stepping gingerly out of her chair, she walks into the forest.

Drip 

_Drip_

_Drip_

"Wait!" he yells, even as she gets farther away from him.

She turns. 

"What about the baby?"

Laughing, she patted her stomach. "It doesn't matter. It represents what could be, and what isn't."

"What could be? What could be what?" he calls frantically, even as she gets further away.

"Angelus. I taught you better. Just be there. Be there when it comes."

He watches as the chair she sat on vanishes, and she begins to fade. "How will I know when it comes?" 

The slight screaming of a baby is his only response.

_Drip_

_Drip _

_Drip_

***

The noise pounded in his head, like an incessant drum. Eyes snapping open, Angel drew in a deep calming breath. Buffy lay curled at his side. He listened for a minute to her steady breathing, finally relaxing when he realized that she wasn't dreaming. Gently so as not to wake her, he moved her over and got up.

_Drip_

_Drip_

_Drip_

Following the noise, he ended up in the bathroom. The tap was letting out water that dripped and hit the metal  of the sink at a constant pace. Shaking his head, he turned it off, sighing in relief when the noise was gone.

Making his way back to the bedroom, he paused in the doorway. She was still sleeping, and he was glad to see it. The nightmares came more frequently, and it scared him. She would scream and call out in her sleep saying that the fire was burning,  and she couldn't get out. 

Sometimes minutes… just minutes that felt like hours were needed to pull her from that sleep.

His own dream came filtering back to him. Darla? Pregnant? What did it all mean? He knew that Buffy had been having worse nightmares, but getting farther away from him? 

What did it mean?

Buffy turned over, and let out a low moan. A slow smile spread across Angel's lips when he realized that she was softly whispering his name.

She was dreaming good dreams then.

A sharp movement to his left had Angel springing around. He relaxed when he saw Dawn watching him with frightened eyes. "What are you doing up?" he asked softly. 

Dawn gestured towards the bathroom. "Stupid tap."

Angel shrugged apologetically. "No kidding."

Yawning, the slayer's sister grimaced. "Probably Buffy who left it on." Dawn glanced at her sleeping sister and scowled. "And it doesn't even wake her up! How is that fair?"

"She needs her sleep," Angel said. "Buffy… she… she doesn't always get a lot of it."

Dawn looked at him with suspicion. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Angel threw up his hands. "We're being careful, Dawn."

She squinted her eyes, not sure if she believed him. "You're sharing the same bedroom."

"We're being careful," he repeated. 

"Okay," Dawn muttered, but she still didn't seem convinced.

Angel sniffed the air, and then stepped into the room to look behind the curtain, being careful not to wake Buffy. Dawn coughed, and Angel turned to glare at her. "Buffy's trying to sleep!" he hissed.

She rolled her eyes. "Please. Nothing wakes her up when she's sleeping deeply."

Angel didn't say anything, but looked behind the curtain again.

Coming up behind him suddenly, Angel jumped to find the teenager looking over his shoulder. "Whatya doin'?" she asked. 

"Seeing what time it is," he answered, with no small amount of annoyance.

Dawn took one glance at the yellow and orange that were beginning to peek its way along the Los Angeles skyline before making a sound of disgust. "Why don't you just look at a watch?"

"Maybe because I don't have one." Angel offered shortly.

Dawn held her bright pink sports watch up into his face. "It's five thirty."

Sighing, Angel replaced the curtain. "Come on, I'll make you breakfast."

"Great! Buffy *always* burns whatever she tries to cook." Dawn bounced out of the room. 

Angel felt a wash of fondness watching her. Shaking his head, he pressed a quick kiss to Buffy's forehead before following her.

***

This time she was running. She was running… and yet, they still caught up to her. She would fight them, she would always fight them, but they kept coming.

She could never win.

But she fought. She didn't know what else to do. Things were black

but too bright. The breeze was cool, but the fire burned. 

She wanted it to burn.

Buffy awoke lined in a thin sheet of sweat. Leaning back against the pillows, she let out a series of deep breaths. It's only a dream. Only a dream, only a dream, only a dream, only a dream…

Her heart pounded, but her breathing returned to normal. She looked at the place where Angel usually lay. He wasn't there. She knew that it was much too late for him to still be asleep, but she needed him. She needed him to calm her.

For a moment she wondered why he wasn't there; why he didn't know to be there to comfort her.

The moment passed, and Buffy realized that she was being selfish. Getting a hold on herself, she climbed out of bed and began the morning ritual of making herself presentable.

Checking the mirror first, as she did every morning, she was glad to note that she looked better. The sad girl whose face had been filled with despair and unhappiness had long since been replaced. Her cheeks were pinker, and her body was better nourished. The bags under her eyes, though… those were still there. And, she imagined they were going to remain there for a while.

Coming down the stairs to the lobby of the Hyperion, Buffy could hear hushed voices deep in conversation. Wesley kept asking Angel questions, and the rest of the gang hovered nearby. Pausing for a moment, she stayed and listened as best she could.

"Why was she pregnant?" Angel asked Wesley softly. 

"Ewww," Cordelia yelped loudly. "Of all things you could dream about…."Angel gave her a dark look, and she shrugged. 

"But a vampire can't… right?" Fred said. "I mean, they're technically dead so…"

"Can't very well reproduce." Gunn finished, sharing a smile with Fred.

Angel nodded and looked at Wesley. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It could very well be something that your sub conscience interjected into the dream that had no meaning at all." Wesley looked at Angel seriously. "Did anything happen with Darla last year that could have caused her to … appear in that state?"

Buffy sucked in a breath. Darla? Pregnant? What? Angel, hearing her gasp of surprise, glanced up sharply. "What's going on?" she inquired, trying not to sound like she had been standing on the stairs watching them.

Angel have her an easy smile. "Wesley and I were just discussing a particular breed of demons. Nothing that you would be interested in."

'Liar,' Buffy thought with an indignant flash of anger. "Really?" she purred feigning interest. 

Angel gave Cordelia a quick pleading look. "Really," she said quickly. "It's pretty boring stuff, actually."

"Yeah!" Fred jumped in, "I think it would be best if we left  Wes, Gunn, and Angel to discuss it amongst themselves." 

"You know how men like all that blood and gore stuff," Cordelia added with a wrinkle of her nose.

  
Buffy folded her arms over her chest and looked Angel straight in the eye. "It better not be something important," she said slowly, "I'm the slayer. If there's something I need to know then I should be told."

Angel held her gaze. "If it was something I felt you should know, I'd tell you."

'Sure. Sure you would,' Buffy thought angrily. "Good because I wouldn't want you to keep something from me simply because you thought that it was for my own good." Angel almost looked guilty, and Buffy felt a little better. Looking at Fred and Cordelia, she gestured to the entrance of the hotel. "Breakfast?"

"Sure," Fred answered nervously. "What about Dawn?"

Buffy shrugged. "I'm sure that these guys can handle her."

"We love Dawn!" Gunn cried, with too much enthusiasm.

Cordelia, Wesley and Angel exchanged a look. "Okay!" Queen C clapped her hands together. "Let's get a move on, shall we?"

Buffy followed the two brunettes to the door, making sure to brush by Angel in annoyance on her way. Reaching out, he grabbed her arm and she turned around to face him. 

"Hey," he smiled pleasantly. "You never said good morning."

Buffy felt herself turn into a puddle as he gazed at her. 'Damn him!' she fumed internally. "Morning," she muttered.

Leaning forward he pecked her on the forehead. "I love you," he whispered.

Buffy bristled. He was hiding something from her and was most definitely *not* going to get away with it "I'm a lovable person," she snapped.

Angel looked hurt but accepted the blow. Letting her go, she turned away from him and couldn't help but notice the embarrassed faces of the people who had just witnessed the little PDA. 

"And Buffy?"

Buffy turned and faced him again. "What?"  
  


"Work on your eavesdropping. I knew you were there the moment you set foot on the stairs."

Glaring at him, Buffy turned and stalked out of the Hyperion. Angel watched her go with an amused smile on his lips.

"Man!" Gunn exclaimed. "You really know a good way of getting staked."

"Yes," Wesley agreed. "Do you really think that lying to her was the best thing to do?"

Angel kept his eyes on the door that she had just exited the building from. "It's for her own good," he said softly.

***

"Buffy! Wait up!" Fred shouted, even as the blonde stormed further away from her.

Cordelia lay a hand on her arm. "The girl is pissed."

"Shouldn't we go after her? We don't want her to do anything stupid. Besides, she looks really unhappy…"

Cordelia snorted. "Please. That girl is like the queen of pain or something. She *always* makes things seem worse then they are. Like the world revolves around her."

"But…" Fred protested meekly.

"Let her storm off. She'll come back. Then her and Angel will make with the kissing and the disgusting googoo eyes."

Fred watched as she disappeared from sight. "She's going awfully fast."

Cordelia held a hand over her forehead to block out the sun and squinted at Buffy's furthering figure. "Go ahead and try and catch up if you'd like."

"It might be kind of hard… what with the slayer speed and all."

Cordelia snapped her fingers. "It's all settled then. She'll go and pout. We'll go for pancakes."

***

Lilah Morgan was a fan of cleanliness. She thought that if people wanted to take up her precious time, they might as well try and look presentable. Take nails for example. If a new lawyer dared to come to her and actually talk to her with bitten, sharp, dirty nails, she would dismiss them in a heartbeat.

Her job wasn't always easy, but Lilah had learned that first impressions go a long way. She made sure that her own appearance was always flawless. Perfect skin, perfect hair, perfect clothes, and perfect nails.

It made her seem superior

And she was superior, of course. 

Folding her arms over her chest, Lilah looked calmly at her newest visitor. He was wearing a suit that needed ironing, a bright pink tie, and brown running shoes. He was *not* presentable. Thus, she was the one with the power. "This better be good," she muttered.

The visitor, a one hundred-year-old vampire that killed more lawyers than he could count, flinched under the intense gaze. Swallowing heavily, he didn't do anything but shrug. 

Lilah picked a manila folder off her desk and began rifling through the contents. "Buffy Anne Summers. 21 years old. Called as the slayer when she was 15. Last year she killed herself and saved the world. Recently, she was resurrected by her friends. Am I correct?"

The vampire nodded.

Lilah smiled and threw the folder down on her desk. Papers spewed out, and the vampire gave a little nervous jump. "What it is the Slayer doing in LA?" 

"Well… uh… it appears that she's living with the vampire… An--"

"What's your name?" Lilah interrupted, giving the vampire a distasteful look.

"My name is, uh, Marcus, ma'am."

Lilah leaned back in her chair and brushed a piece of her hair out of her face. She noticed with disgust that the vampire was in dire need of a haircut. "Marcus," she began pleasantly, "why the *hell* is the slayer living with Angel?"

The vampire tugged nervously at his tie, which was starting to come undone. "They… he… apparently… you know."

Lilah slammed her fist down on the desk. The vampire whimpered. "No, Marcus, I don't know," she hissed. "I've been doing nothing but watching this fucking vampire for the past three years." Taking a deep breath, she looked at Marcus, calm and collected once more. "Now," she smiled, "be a good little vampire and tell the nice lawyer why the Slayer is living with Angelus."

"I don't know all the details…." Off Lilah's glare, the vampire rushed to continue. "But… I've been around a while. I'm sure you've heard the rumors that Angel was once involved with a slayer." Marcus snorted. "It was disgusting! Pawing over her… like a whipped puppy dog."

Lilah cleared her throat. "I don't care how Angel acted around her. What is the Slayer doing in *my* town?"

"I don't actually know why the slayer is here," Marcus fumbled nervously.

"Oh," Lilah leaned back and examined her nails. "Then why are you still standing here?"

Marcus choked. "He fell in love with her!" he said quickly.

Lilah raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow. "Interesting."

Glad that he had her attention, the vampire grinned. "So they have this whole forbidden love thing going on. Until, one day, he leaves. Just like that. And she moves on." Marcus whistled. "The next guy was almost as bad as Angelus himself. Part of some high-class army group. You did *not* want to mess with him."

"So that's it. He breaks up with her, and comes here." Lilah stood up and chewed her lip thoughtfully. "There has to be more to it than that. Doesn't really sound like love to me."

The vampire shrugged. "Look, I told you what you wanted to hear… can I go now?"

"Why did he leave her?" 

"I don't know. It was about a year after he went evil… man, those were some good times!"

Lilah looked up. "When Angel went evil?" She thought for a moment. "The only way to break the curse is true happiness…"

The vampire glanced up suddenly. "Oh, yeah. I remember now. She broke the clause or something. I don't know, Angelus didn't really like to talk about the whole thing."

Lilah wasn't listening to him anymore. No, she wasn't at all. She was staring intently at a picture of Buffy that had fallen on the floor. It was her junior High School picture. A slow smile spread across Lilah's perfectly painted lips. "So you're the one," she purred. "Lindsey couldn't do it, Darla couldn't do it, but… you. The love of his life. The slayer. You're the only one that can turn him evil."

Lilah laughed. The irony was just… delicious. 

***

Buffy was upset. She didn't like being lied to. She didn't like it when Angel kept things from her. And she especially didn't like it when he patronized her like she was a little girl.

She was the slayer, after all.

The slayer, who was sitting all alone in the downtown area of Los Angeles. People milled around her, chatting happily. Lovers walked by, hand in hand, like they were the only ones in the entire world. 

No one noticed her. No one bothered giving her a second glance.

She was utterly, and totally alone. In a city with a population of 6 million.

But, of course, that was why she had come here. To be alone. To get away from the people that knew her. Shivering, Buffy hugged her arms around her. It was a warm day, and she felt cold. Like she was missing part of something.

Like she was missing Angel.

She sighed. 'No… no, you're not going there.' she amended quickly. He *lied* to her. He lied even when he knew she knew he was lying. 

He lied.

And Buffy sat alone.

***

The vampire was humming some tune under his breath. Lilah let out a sigh of annoyance and pressed a red button on her desk.

Three men dressed in black and well over 6 feet tall waltzed into her office. She gestured to Marcus. "I have a problem here. Let's take care of it people."

Marcus looked betrayed. "Hey! You said that if I told you what you needed to know then I could have…" He never finished his sentence as he exploded into a cloud of dust.

Lilah didn't even flinch. Instead, she began to rifle through the file labeled, 'Buffy Summers.' "Okay, big love," she muttered under her breath, "big whoop. But what are you doing here?"

She froze, feeling the first bits of unease when her superior stepped into her office without knocking. "Lilah," he said pleasantly.

Lilah took a deep breath and held out her hand. "Sir."

Taking the seat across from her desk, be sat down, ignoring her hand. "You've finally figured out why this girl is so important to the future."

"She's the love of Angel's life," Lilah said, practically choking on the words.

"True enough," her superior smiled. She couldn't help but notice how his fingernails were perfectly filed, and how there was not a speck of dirt present anywhere on his body or clothes. "Rather romantic actually. Slayer and Vampire. Night and Day. Good and Evil."

"It sounds sickening," she bit out.

He chuckled. "I suppose one could see it that way."

"What is she doing here?" Lilah asked.

"Does it really matter? The important thing is that she is here. And we can use that. We can use her."

"What? Get them to sleep together? Kill her?"

"No. Goodness gracious, Ms. Morgan, do you have any idea how difficult it would be to try and kill a slayer? Think about the complications!" Her superior shook his head. "Besides, if we kill her, we'll have Angelus out for revenge. No, we need to go slower. Go through the heart. Take her away from him but damage him as much as possible at the same time."

"Then what do you propose we do?" Lilah said somewhat sarcastically.

He got up and shrugged. Moving to the door he said, "That's up to you. Angel's your responsibility. But my sources inform me that a slayer is sitting mournfully downtown right now. Alone."

Lilah watched him leave her office and shut the door. Calmly, she picked up Buffy Summers' file from her desk. With a scream she hurled it across the room. The folder hit the wall with a dull thump, papers and notes falling to the floor in an unwanted heap.

Taking a deep breath, she picked up her phone. She paused for a moment before dialing a number. "Yeah, get me Demora… I don't care if he's busy! Tell him Lilah's calling." Tapping her foot impatiently, Lilah let out a long, suffering sigh. "Look. You get me your boss. And if you don't, I'll make sure that all that's left of you come tomorrow is your hand still attached to this phone." She smiled. "There. That's much better." She didn't need to wait 30 seconds for the boss to come to the phone. "Demora? I need a drink. Something that will screw around with a persons head… make them think things that aren't real."

***

"Ice cream. Good. Me like ice cream," Buffy mumbled morosely under her breath as she stirred her spoon around in her melting ice cream. 

Vanilla ice cream. Buffy didn't think that she was really in the mood for mint chip fudge cookie dough ice cream at the moment.

She was watching her spoon twirl around in the ice cream. The way the ice cream stuck to the edges of the white plastic was…. "Boring and stupid," she sighed. She's been sitting in the same place, at the same table, for nearly two hours… minus the trip she'd taken to get the ice cream.

She was beginning to think that she'd been moping for long enough. Besides, she wasn't really angry anymore. Just confused… and, okay, she was still a little pissed, but she thought that she could go back there and ask Angel calmly and rationally what was going on.

Getting up, Buffy stretched leisurely. Letting out a yawn, she never saw the person who came and rammed into her. Reeling from the blow, Buffy stumbled and felt a warm liquid thrown on her arm. A chant was whispered too softly for her to hear. She looked up just in time to see a hooded figure disappear into the crowd. She figured that it wasn't worth it to go after him. Probably just some idiot that had spilled his soda or something.

Frowning, Buffy looked at her arm. The liquid was clear, and smelled like roses. A noise caught her attention, and she looked at the table that she had just been sitting at. A container that was mostly empty of the liquid lay on its side. On the ground near the table there was a metal grate. The kind of grate that gets full of muck and twigs when it rains.

Buffy watched with wide eyes as the liquid dripped off the table and landed on the grate. The noise was soft, not loud at all, yet it throbbed like a never ending harmony in her mind.

Drip 

_Drip_

_Drip_

***

Angel Investigations was quiet save for the two soft voices talking quietly in the corner. Angel was busy recounting his dream scene for scene, and Wesley was busy cross-referencing and writing down everything Angel said. Gunn had left, complaining of boredom an hour ago. Dawn had gone down the street to the gas station for candy.

"It represents what could be, and what isn't," Wesley recapped, voice muffled because of the pen sticking out of his mouth.

Angel nodded. "That's what she said when I asked her about the baby."

Wesley leaned back. "Why? It doesn't make any sense… a vampire pregnant." He shook his head. "It's not possible."

"Wesley, it was a dream," Angel reminded, "it's not real."

"But you thought that it was prophetic…"

Angel closed his eyes. "It is," he tapped his hand against his leg in concentration. "I know it is."

"What happened last year with Darla? You don't seem all that surprised that she's pregnant."

"She's *not* pregnant," Angel replied irritably.

"That she *appeared* pregnant," Wesley amended.

Angel sighed. "I had sunk to a low place last year, Wes. It's not something that I'm proud of. Things I did… things I thought… it's not something I like to think about."

"What happened?" Wesley pressed.

Angel looked away.

Wesley cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I realize that this is hard for you. But it might be important."

"The dream wasn't about Darla," Angel cried, "it was about Buffy. I know it was about Buffy."

"But Darla is the key."

Angel stared at him for a second. "I slept with her," he said at last. "I wanted to feel something… anything."

Wesley shifted. "Oh."

Angel sighed. "Please… don't tell the others."

"Does Buffy know?"

Angel nodded. "I told her everything."

Wesley thought for a moment. "Angel… I realize that you're not totally at fault. We… I… we should have been there for you." 

The vampire shook his head. "It's in the past. It doesn't matter now."

"I don't know… it sure helps to explain a lot."

"What?"

"I think…" Wesley began slowly, trying to get his thoughts in order, "that it meant exactly that." Angel gave him a confused look. "The baby… I think it represented what isn't, but what could have been."

"Could have been what?"

"A different world," the ex-watcher mused. "Where things are different because of one little decision."

"A decision not to sleep with Darla?" Angel asked doubtfully.

"No…" Wesley paused and thought. "No… more like your decision to stay with Buffy."

"Oh," Angel muttered. Suddenly, he burst out laughing. 

Wesley gave him a shocked expression. "What could possibly be so funny about that?"

Angel clutched his sides, and tried to get a hold of himself. "I just imagined," he burst into a fit of giggles again. "Another world," he gasped out, "where I actually had feelings for Cordelia." His laughter died out and he slumped down in his chair. "Now, I'm depressed."

 Wesley cracked a smile. "That is quite an amusing thought, is it not?"

"No, no… it's not. It's disturbing." 

Wesley raised his eyebrows. "That, too."

Sudden laughter could be heard from the lobby of the Hyperion. Wesley and Angel got up and found Cordelia, Fred, and Dawn laughing happily. 

"Where's Buffy?" Angel demanded.

"Hi to you too," Cordelia sniped.

"Where is she?" he demanded again.

Fred gestured down the street. "She ran away."

"Like far away," Cordelia added. "She was pissed. I guess that she's so busy wallowing in her anger that she hasn't come back yet."

"Buffy's out in LA. Wandering around! By herself?" Angel growled.

Three pairs of eyes regarded him with shocked expressions. "Angel," Wesley broke in, "Buffy's more than capable of taking care of herself."

"Yeah, really," Dawn said sarcastically, "it's not like she's slayed vampires before or anything. It's just LA."

Angel shook his head and nodded. "You're right. She's fine." Then why did he feel like something was terribly wrong?

Cordelia gave him a worried look. "Hey, if she was in dire danger I'm sure the Power's would send me a mind numbing vision."

Angel held up his hand. "Shut up for a minute."

"Hey!" Cordelia snapped.

"Shut up," he hissed again, listening intently. He could hear a noise… faintly. A little popping…. Following his ears, he came and stood in front of Wesley's desk. Water from the ceiling slid down and bounced off it.

Drip 

_Drip_

_Drip_

The others gathered behind him. "We have piping problems," Cordelia groused. "You interrupted me because we have piping problems???"

Angel watched the water bounce off the desk. A little bit of nausea formed in his stomach. "She's getting further away from me," he whispered.

"Angel? What? Stop looking at the water like that! It can't be good," Fred babbled.

Dawn came and stood next to him. She grabbed his hands. "What's wrong, Angel?" she pleaded. "Who's getting farther away?"  
  


Angel turned and glanced at her. His gaze seemed haunted… farther away. 

"Buffy."

TBC


	11. Drip Drip Drip pt B

Title: Drip, Drip, Drip Pt. B

Author: Goldy

Email: thegoldoneb_a@hotmail.com

Disclaimer: Joss. Not me. No suey.

Synopsis: Buffy. Angel. Water. You know, the usual.

Timeline: Right after Drip, Drip, Drip pt A.

A/N: Sorry for the delay in getting this out. I had it ready in June. It's just, my beta readers have been a little busy lately. So. I've made a uniform decision. As much as I love them, which is a lot of love by the way, I'm posting this without them looking at it. I had a friend go over it for me instead. 

A/N: Again! Sorry! For the delay. I feel bad, I know how long this has taken. The next, I hope, will be coming out more frequently.

Feedback: Errr… is anyone even still reading this?

Angel was still staring at the water that was dripping down from the pipe. The others had moved slowly away from him and began conversing amongst themselves. Angel, though they had tried to talk to him, was still staring at the water pounding against the desk. He was transfixed, maybe even hypnotized by the motion. 

Drip 

_Drip_

_Drip_

Cordelia, once the school bitch of Sunnydale High School, was, quite frankly, getting tired of it. She wasn't sure whether Angel was staring at the water in fear, or in anger, or in helplessness. Or whatever. It didn't matter. What did matter, though, was that the vampire hadn't moved an inch in the past 10 minutes. Cordelia thought that wasn't a good sign. Of course, when it came to Angel, most things that had to do with Buffy weren't good. 

And Cordelia was left to pick up the pieces. Again.

Walking up to him, she put a hand on his arm. "Angel… maybe you shouldn't… look at the water like that. You could go cross-eyed or something."

Angel didn't say anything.

"Oh, for The Powers That Be sakes," Cordelia muttered under her breath. "Uh, hello? Freaky water dude there? Do you really think that you're going to help Buffy staring at the water that way?"

Angel made no reply.

Cordy sighed. "Angel, you help people," Cordelia said slowly, in a patronizing voice, "that's your job. You can't help people if you stare at water. The only way to help people would be to look—"

"She's beyond my reach," Angel interrupted, not looking up from the dripping water.

The ex-cheerleader sniffed. "Well, that's nice. I never really liked her anyway."

Angel finally turned to stare at her with a horrified expression. 

Cordelia let out a little chuckle. "Just kidding!" When Angel glared at her, she grinned. "I got you to stop looking at the water, didn't I?"

"I think the water's the key," Angel mused.

Cordelia watched the water drip from the ceiling and bounce off the desk. "Or we have leaking problems…"

"No… it means… something." Angel looked as if he might turn and stare at it again, so Cordelia quickly grabbed his arm.

"What do you mean she's beyond your reach?"

Angel frowned. "I mean, I can't help her."

Cordelia gave him her best shocked look. "Okay, Mr. Downer Guy, what have you done with Mr. Positive Guy and where can I get him back?" Angel pulled his arm out of her grasp and turned back to the water. "So that… was not the best thing to say," Cordelia admitted grudgingly. "You were never really Mr. Positive Guy, but… we are talking about Buffy right? B-U-F-F-Y?"

"Cordelia," Angel said her name in a tight voice, "go away."

"No, I will not go away! You just think I'm going to stand here and listen to this? Obviously, Buffy needs your help. So what are you doing? Nothing! I won't stand for it! Did it ever occur to you that *you* might be getting farther away from her?"

When Angel turned back to look at her, his face was twisted into a grimace of barely controlled anger. "You don't know anything about Buffy and me, so don't even assume to tell me what's going on."

She scoffed. "You're right. I don't know anything."

Angel didn't say anything.

"I thought you loved her!" she cried fiercely, "Don't say you can't help her when you haven't even tried!"

"I had a prophetic dream…"

"Where Darla was pregnant. Right, cause that world sounds so real. Angel, snap out of it! Order us around! Don't just stand there!"

Angel opened his mouth, presumably to argue, when he realized that he and Cordelia had an audience. Dawn stood, staring at them. Her mouth hung partially open, and tears welled in her eyes. 

"What do you mean you're not going to help her?" she whispered in a soft, small voice.

Angel blinked in surprise and guilt. "I didn't say that I wasn't going…"

Dawn shook her head. Giving Angel one last hurt look, she turned and fled from the room. Angel stared after her, clear helplessness stamped on his features. 

Cordelia resisted the urge, however strong, to smack him.

"Angel," she said, trying her best to sound calm and dignified. "Go talk to Dawn. Tell her that Buffy is going to be okay. Tell her that you have everything under control."

Angel didn't say anything, just stared at the place where Dawn used to be, looking like he was contemplating jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge.

So… Cordy smacked him. Hard.

Angel turned to look at her, confused. "What was that for?"

"You acting like a little child that doesn't know how to help himself!"

"Cordy… this is complicated."

She bared her teeth at him. "I'll smack you again."

Angel finally gave a little smirk. "Well, if it's as painful as that last one…"

"Watch it, buddy," Cordy threatened, standing on the balls of her feet.

Sighing, Angel's frown marred his face again. "I don't know how to do this, Cordy," he admitted painfully. 

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. You only think you don't know how to help her."

"No, I really don't…"

Cordelia stuck her fingers in her ears. "I'm not listening to you! Lalalala!"

Angel scowled at her. "Fine," he snapped. "Fine." He directed a piercing gaze at the rest of the AI team gathered around the lobby, now staring at him and Cordelia with wide eyes. "No one sleeps until we find her, understand?"

They gulped. "You sure you're okay, man?" Gunn asked after a beat of silence.

Angel stared at him for a moment. "When it comes to Buffy," he answered slowly, "things are never okay. I don't know what's going on, I don't know how to help her, but I want answers."

Cordelia resisted the urge to take a bow. Leaning forward she whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear, "I knew that your will to help Whiny Buffy was in there somewhere."

Angel didn't even look at her. "Cordelia, shut up."

Cordelia pouted, deciding that it would be wise, now that she got the big soulful idiot to talk, to actually listen to that advice. So as painful and degrading as it was, Cordy shut up.

After sticking out her tongue at him.

Angel didn't comment. "Fred and Gunn, I want you to check obvious places…"

Fred raised her hand.

Angel graced her with a look. "What?" he asked, voice tight.

"Well… I..." she trailed off, looking guilty.

Angel sighed. "I'm sorry, it's not you. I'm just worried."

She nodded. "I know." Eyes filling with tears, she sniffled a few times. "We're all worried."

The vampire didn't think it would be wise to say that there was no way anyone could understand what he was feeling. They didn't understand what it was like to have her back, only to be the one to lose her. Knowing they didn't, couldn't, wouldn't understand, he smiled and nodded sympathetically. "We'll get her back," he stated firmly, even as his mind screamed his lie.   
  


Looking a little better, Fred raised her hand again.

Angel smothered the urge to groan. "Yes?"

"When you say you want us to check the usual places… what do you mean by usual?"

Angel didn't even have to think about. "Graveyards, dark alleys… places Buffy likes to be when she's hurt or angry." He didn't add that was where she was likely to go when she was mad at *him*. 

Gunn shook his head. "Usual… that girl looks so normal…" he sighed, as if trying to clear out Buffy's image. "I still have trouble believing that a chick like that could be the Slayer." 

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "We know that," she sneered, "every time you see her you do a double take because you can't believe a woman could beat the shit out of you." 

"Hey! Not just anyone can beat the shit out of me."

Cordelia snorted, "Plus, you're like, totally in love with her."

Gunn's eyes widened in surprise. Gaping, he took one look at Angel's hard, angry face and defensively threw his hands up in the air. "I don't… I never… it's not like…"

Angel glared and glanced pointedly at the water dripping down on the front desk. "Look," he said in a clipped tone, "if you're not going to do what I say, get the hell out of here. I don't know how much time I have, I don't know what's happened to her, and I will *NOT* let her die again without me."

The others regarded him in silence, seemingly put out by his tirade. "Okay," they finally answered in unison, staring guiltily at the ground.

Angel gave a barely perceptible nod. "Cordelia, I want you to check beaches, piers, malls… places a normal girl would go after having a fight with her boyfriend."

"Well," she argued, paying no heed to his obvious state of weariness. "You and Buffy didn't really have a fight… and you're not really her boyfriend."

Angel closed his eyes. Took a deep, calming breath. Opened them. "Just… go."

"So, ahh… what are we going to do with a girl that can beat the shit out of me if we find her?" Gunn asked gently, knowing that the big vampire boss wasn't in the sanest of moods.

Angel looked pained. "I don't know, Gunn," he said harshly, "apparently you're the one in love with her."

Gunn grabbed a stake and stomped towards the door. "You're not the only one who's worried about her," he called over his shoulder, "but at least the rest of us are willing to keep the friends we still have."

 Fred gave Angel a wounded look that he refused to feel bad for, but she hurried out after the black man. Cordelia hovered after Fred had left, looking like she wanted to say something important but not sure how. "Angel…"

He closed his eyes. "I'm okay, Cordy."

"Don't lie to me."

"Cordelia, please… just go… help find her."

She sighed, giving him a sympathetic glance before hurrying out of the hotel.

Wesley, who had been silent the whole time, watched just as quietly as the others left. He looked at Angel. "I suppose you'll want me to keep researching?"  
  


Angel gave a tiny smile, shrugged. "You're the boss."

Wesley let out a sound that may have passed as a laugh. "Research it is."

The vampire nodded, and Wesley wondered if he had actually heard him. "Will you…" Angel began with difficulty, "will you phone…" he stopped again, gulped and continued in a shaky voice, "hospitals? Health care centers?"

Wesley watched his friend through sympathetic eyes. "Of course."

Angel looked towards the stairs. "I'm going to go talk to Dawn."

"And after?"

"I'll do whatever I have to."

***

Buffy walked down the road. Or was it a road? It could have been a sidewalk, she figured. She wasn't really sure. Didn't really care. Wasn't sure about anything, really. Things were blurred, places were bleeding into one another, and nothing seemed to matter.

She was free. She felt free at last. She could walk in the road if she wanted. Fly in the sky. Swim in the ocean. 

She laughed.

Then choked.

She knew, *knew*, something was wrong. She could feel it. Drugs, the idiot who had banged into her while she was having ice cream drugged her. That was the only explanation.

She laughed again. Did it really matter?

Stumbling, she fell and threw her arms out in front to protect herself. Stone, tar, and dirt clung and stung her fingers and palms, mixing with little trails of blood that the hard ground had caused. 

Something was most definitely wrong.

She just needed to concentrate. Think for a moment. Even though all she wanted was to let go… be free. Close her eyes, take that final step, and oblivion would rush up. None of this would matter. She wouldn't have to think. Just *be*.

Be happy. No hurt, no pain, no fear.

No, she tried to hold on, stumbled again and lay breathing hard on someone's lawn. Where was she trying to go? Home? Home…. She tried to conjure a picture in her head, but it was hard to think of anything. Hard to remember who she was… where she lived. 

Buffy bit her lip, frowned, twisted her features as if that might help her think easier. It couldn't have been drugs, she hadn't actually swallowed anything. Magic then. Someone had put a spell on her. That was okay. Soon it would wear off.

If only she could remember where she was going.

Oblivion!

Her mind screamed, urging her to close her eyes… take that step. _There was no pain, no fear nor doubt… till they pulled me out…_

She shuddered. She wanted to be here. It wasn't hell. There were things, things on this world…

People she loved…

Angel.

She hung on to his name, managed to whisper it aloud as if that would save her. 

Was he home?

***

"It's not that I'm not going to try and save her, Dawn," Angel tried to explain, "it's just… things are complicated, you know?"

Dawn shook her head, not looking up at him. Angel sighed, she wasn't going to come around soon. Angel vaguely thought of how Liam had been as a teenager—drunken, a womanizer, a pathetic man who hadn't lived long. He glanced at Dawn, felt his heart grow more filled with regrets. So young, yet she had to endure so much. 

And she could be so very annoying when she was mad.

 Heavily, he sat down next to her. She was curled up in the corner of one of the spare rooms in the hotel. It was sparsely decorated, the only furniture an old bed that had been there for over fifty years. 

"I love her so much, Dawn," Angel said slowly, trying to get through to her. "So much it hurts. So much that sometimes actions speak louder than words."

Dawn finally turned a tear-stained face to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean the way she looks sad all the time. Her eyes are always far away, always with a look that wonders why she's here. I see her drift off sometimes, close in on herself. She'll stare straight ahead for ten minutes, not blinking, not saying anything, and I wonder where she really is. I don't know… I don't know if she wants to be saved."

"I can't lose her again, Angel," Dawn pleaded softly.

Angel smiled, patting her shoulder. "I can't either," he admitted. "But I wonder… will she let me save her?"

Dawn blinked, bit her lip. A small trickle of blood trailed down her chin. "I used to think that you could get her to do anything but…" Dawn trailed off, shifting her eyes to a point in the room so she wouldn't have to look at him. "Since she came back… she's been different. I don't even know if she's in there anymore."

"She'll never be the same, Dawn."

"But she is, in a way. She's still Buffy."

"Buffy," Angel repeated, saying her name almost in worship. Then, chuckling softly to himself he repeated, "Buffy."

"Save her," she pleaded, eyes wide and bursting with the pain of a child that has been forced to see too much.

Angel gulped, hating the way she looked at him. Because she reminded him of Buffy at that age. Already seen too much, but still bursting with certain innocence. "I can only promise to try."

***

Angel was walking almost like an old man after he left Dawn to try and seek out Wesley. He was suddenly so tired. All he wanted was to take Buffy, shelter her, move somewhere safe and warm where no one would ever bother them again. He wanted to see her happy, and he wanted that light in her eyes to come back.

He met the ex-watcher on the stairs. Wesley was staring at him, book in hand, face contorted in thought. "The Powers," he said upon seeing Angel, "sometimes use signals, or patterns if you will, to warn their champions. In this case, I'm assuming that's the dripping noise that you heard, both in the dream and out of the dream."

"Why water?" Angel snapped. "Why the noise, why the drip, why all the cryptic?"

Wesley considered his friend for a moment. He seemed to be losing it quite a bit, his worry for Buffy obviously draining all rational thought. Finally, he just shrugged. "Who knows? These are the Powers, they're allowed to be as obscure as they choose." Wesley smiled, "Perhaps they have a sense of humor."

Angel just stared at him, less than impressed. "Fine, the dripping water was a warning. I'm assuming that means Buffy's in trouble. Or, perhaps," he said in a mimicking tone, "you could tell me more about how ambiguous everything is."

Wesley flushed, and resisted the urge to tell Angel where to shove it. He was worried and Wesley was going to try and be as patient as possible. Still, he couldn't help but sound a little miffed. "Since your dream was about Buffy, and not Darla, yes, she would be in trouble."

Angel shook his head. "It still doesn't make any sense!" he cried, annoyance dripping from his words. "Why not just send Cordelia a vision?"

Wesley paused hearing a noise. His lips quirked into a tiny smile. "Never ask."

Angel sighed, managed to look a little amused. "Right," he mumbled at the same time that there was a huge crash from the downstairs of the hotel followed by a wail.

"ANGEL!!!! I HAD A VISION!!!"

Cordelia was somewhat surprised at how fast Angel responded to her call. He came crashing down the stairs with Wesley right on his heels. She clutched her head and continued whining. "My god! Thank you for that pain of *urgency*. It's not like I'm HUMAN or anything!"

The two men just looked at each other. "Tylenol?" Wesley finally offered in a sheepish voice.

Cordelia glared at him. "Yes, Wesley. Preferably one that will make me never have to feel anything ever again!"

Wesley went to get Tylenol.

"What did you see?" Angel asked as soon as he was sure she would live.

"Sure, let's not worry about *my* pain," Cordy snapped. "Let's worry about Little Miss Slayer."

"Cordy!" 

She rolled her eyes. "Seriously though," she said, almost kindly, "it's almost like you're developing a dependency on her. You know what they say, space can be good…"

"What did you *SEE*?"

"Well, it wasn't about Buffy, so I don't know why you're so worried…" Cordelia moaned, clutched her head, barely managing to fall into Angel's arms before hitting the ground. Wesley came back with two Tylenols, took one look at Cordelia, and went back for two more. Gasping, Cordelia gripped onto Angel, too woozy to stand on her feet, "Okay, that one was about Buffy."

Angel thought that he might explode. Or kill Cordelia. One of the two. "The first one wasn't about Buffy?"

She rolled her eyes… and nearly passed out from the effort. "No," she wheezed, "it was just fun to see you squirm."

Angel scowled darkly.

Wesley came back with the painkillers. Angel managed to wait patiently while his seer took them. He only growled once or twice… possibly three times.

Once Cordy could stand normally, she shook her fist at the sky. "Twice in a few minutes? Overkill, much?"

"Cordelia!" Angel nearly shrieked.

She almost looked guilty. "Yes?"

Angel looked so pained that Cordelia felt her heart contract. "Is Buffy okay?"

Resigned, Cordelia managed a small shrug. "I didn't see Buffy," she whispered. "I saw who did this to her."

"Did what to her?" Angel asked, almost afraid.

Finally, Cordelia let the horror show in her eyes. "She's in so much pain, Angel. I felt it. I felt her pain. She doesn't know where she is, barely knows her name, doesn't know whether she's alive or dead."

Angel looked down at his feet. He knew it. He failed. Buffy was getting farther and farther away from him. Soon… she wouldn't even know who he was.

"No," Cordy said, as if hearing his thoughts, "she's still hanging on to you, Angel."

The anger started. That inevitable fury that he felt, his demon felt, and his soul felt when someone he cared about was put in danger. This time it was Buffy who was hurting and Angel was going to torture, maim, and kill the people who did this to her.

Cordelia gave a little jump when Angel looked back up. In that moment he reminded her more of Angelus than the tortured vampire with a soul. "Who did this to her?" he roared.

She couldn't help it, Cordy almost felt bad for the object of Angel's anger. "Wolfram   
& Hart."

*** 

Lilah was pouring herself a glass of wine. She tried not to concentrate on the fact that her hands were shaking, or the way her breathing would hitch every few seconds, or even the way she kept looking behind herself, making sure nothing dark and ominous lurked ready to strike.

She downed her glass in one greedy gulp. Taking the time to look around her place cautiously, she poured herself another one, content to sip this one slower. Sitting down on her big, plush, perfect couch, Lilah tried to relax.

This day was no different then all other days. Her law firm had committed many atrocities in the past. Murders of children, families, torture… the list went on and on. Lilah *never* felt bad. Never felt the way that sniveling Lindsay would feel. Lilah knew that she had sold her soul a long time ago and she was never going to get it back. And that had never bothered her before.

But Lilah was capable of feeling fear. And she was almost certain that she could feel Angel's fury, feel it surrounding her, ready to pounce and choke her. Lilah remembered the last time when she had struck out at the seer. His anger at her for hurting one he cared for was dangerous… yet exciting. But now, now that Lilah had struck the one he loved best, now Lilah felt terrified.

So she stayed on the couch, sipped her red wine, and willed her hands to stop shaking because she kept spilling the alcohol all over her white couch and red wine *stained*. 

Lilah hated mess.

***

Fred hurried along the streets of LA, busily looking everywhere one might for a blonde slayer who had gotten into a fight with her sort-of boyfriend who was the only vampire on the Earth with a soul. Fred didn't want to give up, but she was starting to feel a little uneasy. She *knew* that it hadn't been a good idea to let Buffy run off earlier on her own.

She glanced at Gunn who was deep in thought next to her. "I really like Buffy," Fred said, the first words that she had spoken in over 10 minutes.

Gunn whistled. "She is something."

She gave him a funny look but didn't comment. "So sad," the brunette sighed. "I have a feeling that whatever she's been through was a lot worse than being stuck in Pylea for a few years."

He shrugged. "Think Angel will be able to keep it together?"  
  


"I don't know," Fred admitted, frowning. "Did you see the pain in his eyes earlier?"

Gunn frowned. "Man, I thought we lost him there for a moment when he was watching that dripping water."

Nodding, Fred said, "I've never seen him so… distant."

"Obviously, you don't know what last year was like."

"This is different, Charles. He loves her so much, and he's so afraid of not doing the right thing." She sighed. "It just doesn't seem fair."

Gunn stopped and looked at Fred suspiciously. "Do you still…?"  
  


"What?"

"Well, you know… have feelings for Angel?"

She shook her head. "Kind of hard to after seeing the tension between the two whenever they're within a mile of each other." She smiled. "Besides, I'm not the only one who's developed a little crush on a warrior."

Gunn stared at a spot above Fred's head. "Yeah."

Her eyes filled with tears. "And I really, really like Buffy. She's so strong, so devoted to little Dawny, still goes out to save the world every night even after everything. She's a champion."

"No, she's not."

Surprise filled Fred's eyes. "I don't know…" she stumbled, "I just thought that…"

"She's not a champion," Gunn interrupted, "she's more than that. She's a hero."  
  


Fred smiled. "You're right."

"And we have to find her."

***

Buffy threw up. She couldn't help it. She wanted to keep it down, but she was so dizzy. 

So lost.

So she lay on her back, not knowing where she was, how she got there. The sky was blue, so very blue, shapes and colours seemed to melt into each other. They were getting faster, faster… it was so pretty, so calm.

All she had to do was close her eyes. Bliss… bliss… if only…

She opened her eyes, tried to focus on the sky. She knew that it wasn't many colours. It was only one colour, and it shouldn't be this blurry, shouldn't be melting with other colours.

And there was something she was supposed to be remembering, something important. There was a reason she couldn't go blissfully away, some important thing that she had known a moment before but couldn't seem to remember.

There was Dawny, she had to take care of Dawn. But Dawn was alive, thanks to her, and Dawny was well loved. 

She scratched her head, trying to remember. If only things would stop spinning. Maybe if everything slowed down for a little while she could remember things. Like her name.

Bunny? 

Buffy.

"Buffy," she tried to yell, but the only sound that came out was a hoarse whisper. Still, it was there. And it was her name. Buffy, Buffy, Buffy.

If she could only remember where she had been going.

She stood up, noticing that things were darker. Warning bells went off in her head. Nighttime wasn't good. Not a good place for her to be. Not good, not good, not good…

If only she could remember why it wasn't good.

And where she was going.

'What's my name?' she thought again right before collapsing in an unconscious heap.

***

"Angel…" Wesley started, wanting to say that maybe it wasn't the best thing to go rushing off on a kamikaze mission. But then Angel opened his weapons cabinet, shoved a few nasty looking weapons in a bag, and held out a long sword toward Wesley.

"Yes?" He asked sweetly.

"Well, uh," he fumbled, "I was merely going to suggest that you… uh…."

"Oh screw it," Cordelia muttered under her breath. "We think you're crazy," she snapped interrupting Wesley's poor attempts at trying to say precisely that. "What you're doing is suicide and probably won't do anything to help Buffy."

Angel opened his mouth to argue.

Cordelia waved a hand. "See you in an hour!" she chirped, "We'll just take care of that little other vision I had."

Angel stared at her suspiciously. "What?"

She sighed dramatically. "It doesn't matter what we say, you'll still go on your crazy mission. I just had to put the warning out there first."

"Oh."

Cordelia's features hardened. "Besides, I want you to burn the asses of the people that did this to her."

Angel's retreating back was her only answer. Wesley groaned. "What was in that other vision?"

"Really big monster. Slime. You know, the usual."

Grabbing an axe that Angel left behind, Wes headed to the door. "Sounds great. Let's do it."

***

It was getting dark. There was no escaping that, Fred decided. It was getting dark, she and Gunn had checked graveyards, busy streets, and abandoned alleys, and so far, there was no slayer. Fred had seen plenty of other things, drug dealers, winos, pedophiles, and knew that what came out after dark was a lot worse.

And Buffy was out in it.

Unconsciously, Fred shifted nearer to the man next to her. "I hope you remembered to bring a stake… or ten."

"Never leave home without one up my sleeve, leg, and boot," Gunn answered.

Fred resisted the strong urge she had to start trembling. "Good."

"I don't get it," he said, "I've seen this girl in action. Why, suddenly, are we so worried about her safety?"

"We don't even know if it's her anymore, Charles," she whimpered. "She could be so gone that some creep could have gotten to her. She's defenseless, alone, and scared." Fred paused, stared ahead, "I know what that feels like."

Gunn was quiet. "I don't know, I just don't know…"

"We keep looking," Fred decided firmly, "take the roads back to AI, hope that's the direction she was going in."

***

When Buffy awoke, she was aware of two things, she was cold and it was dark. She tried to call up her memory, but ended up shivering. 

Where was she?

HELL!

Her mind screamed, her body insisted, she was in hell. She must get out, must end it all, must get out, must end it all, mustgetout, mustenditall…

No!

She had a will to live, and it fought. Not as hard as it once did, not as true as it once was. Buffy was no longer afraid of death. Sometimes she even craved it. Where it was always warm and never dark.

Because she was afraid of the dark.

She heard a cold, mirthless laugh behind her. Buffy found the strength to look over her shoulder. It took her mind a few seconds to realize what it was.

A vampire. A hell creature.

She knew she had to fight. Knew that it was her job. *Her* job to fight vampires. But she was so dizzy, and she wanted it to end so *bad*.

When the vampire lifted her up, Buffy didn't fight too much. The vampire's hair was slicked back with too much gel, and a Metallica tee shirt made him look out of place. He was young, hungry, and untrained. Didn't even recognize that she was the slayer. Wouldn't even know that he would kill the most feared killer of their kind. 

The vampire's breath was putrid, his teeth seemed too wide, almost like he was laughing at her, mocking her helplessness.  And Buffy blanked out for another second. When she opened her eyes she looked right up into his face. Dark ridges protruded from his forehead. His face kept getting larger, scarier, and Buffy shivered when she felt his breath against her neck.

Vampire.

Angel… 

That thought in mind, Buffy renewed her futile struggles. Opening her mouth she let out a scream, "No! I'm not ready!"

There was a chuckle, but it was so far away… almost like it was coming from underwater. "No one ever is, sweetheart."

And the whole world went black.

TBC


	12. Drip Drip Drip pt C

Title: Drip, Drip, Drip pt. C

Author: Goldy

Email: thegoldoneb_a@hotmail.com

Disclaimer: Joss. All Joss. Not me.

Dedication: Liss. For the wonderful beta. *Smooch* thanks a lot, honey!

A/N: Angst warning. I'm addicted to the stuff, I think.

Rating: PG

Feedback: Yes! Please! I'm addicted to feedback, too!

When the knock, almost a calm serene one, sounded on her door, Lilah bolted upright on the couch. She slopped some wine over her glass in haste, mentally cursing herself. Smoothing her skirt down, she composed herself as best as she possibly could. 

Voice strong, audibly at ease, Lilah said, "No way I'm saying those two little words you want to hear so badly."

She closed her eyes, hearing the door bang and fall in. She opened her eyes slowly, not scared enough to miss the way Angel looked. Sort of like he'd lost his lover. Sort of like he'd forgotten personal hygiene, food, and anything else that always made him seem like the hero in a dark cape.

It made her smile.

It made her feel powerful.

Angel hurt. Angel needed *her*. He needed Lilah to tell him how to save the slayer. And that put Lilah in control of the situation. 

Lilah relaxed.

He stared at her. "I'll kill you," he spat evenly.

She tapped a nail against her palm, lifted her glass, and smiled pleasantly. "Oh?"

"Bitch," he snapped, and threw himself at her door… only to be propelled back into the hallway.

 "Having some trouble there, Angel?" she asked.

He stood up, looking to Lilah like an arthritic old man. He held out his hands peacefully "I just came to talk."

She laughed. The sound seemed musical to her ears. It helped remind her who had the power. Lilah had the power. She *always* had the power. "So talk."

"I'll hunt you down," he talked, anger gone from his face, but the words sounding deadly. "I'll watch you when you go to work, be there when you step into your car, be around the corner when you step outside your apartment. I'll follow you." He looked her straight in the eyes, not blinking, not flinching away from the gaze. "If anything happens to her, you'll pay for it. Believe me, Lilah, if anything happens to her, you'll live the rest of your  life in pain and fear."

She believed him. Really believed him. But she wasn't going to let him know that. Wasn't going to show him that she was even the slightest bit ruffled. "And what will that make you?"

He shrugged, "A man who has lost his love for the second time in a year."

She licked her lips. "I hate you."

"Feeling's more than mutual."

She slammed her wine glass down on the coffee table. "It wasn't even my fucking idea to go after your lady love, " she snapped, glaring at him, "She's the only one that can give you perfect happiness, after all."

Angel sighed. "Now, Lilah, that was a cheap blow, we both know it. Give it a break and tell me how I can get Buffy back in one piece."

Lilah pouted, looked away from the doorway. "It's a simple confusion spell that was put on her."

Angel watched her suspiciously. "Doesn't sound too bad."

Lilah laughed, this time not from her position of power, but in a mocking tone. "Not too bad? Oh, Angel," she snorted, "you of all people should know. A girl like this? The slayer, with all she's been through. You think it's just a simple confusion spell when put on someone who's been to heaven?"

Angel's jaw clenched. "What's the counter?" he growled, a warning in his voice.

Lilah got up, found a piece of paper, scribbled something on it. "His name's Demora," she thought a moment, "course, it's not his real name, but works well enough, doesn't it? Simple spellcaster, likes to think of himself as a big hot-shot wizard." Lilah smiled, "He was the one who put the whammy on Bunny—"

"Buffy," Angel interrupted, letting his game face show.

Lilah rolled her eyes, "*Buffy*. Anyway, here's the address. I don't care what you do to him, but he's the one with the counter spell."

Walking deliberately towards him, Lilah dropped the paper on the ground and carefully slid it towards him with the tip of her boot. Angel's reflexes were lightening fast, he grabbed her foot as soon as it was over her threshold. Lilah found herself pinned against the hall wall, one of Angel's arms putting pressure against her back, and the other holding the address.

He leaned close to whisper in her ear. "I don't like it when people play with me, Lilah."

She closed her eyes, exhaled, "You wouldn't do anything."

He shoved her harder against the wall, heard her whimper. "I wouldn't?"

"I won't go after her again," she found herself promising.

"I'll kill you if you do," he said.

And then he was gone.

Lilah slid down the wall, leaning against it and breathing hard. A cry tore its way out of her throat. It was followed by another. And another. And another. Soon she was sobbing. 

From fear or relief, Lilah wasn't sure.

***

The scream was so sudden that it seemed to pierce the night air like a knife cutting into a soft loaf of bread. Fred gave a little jump before grabbing Gunn's arm and gesturing wildly.

"Did that sound like…" Gunn trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

Fred could do nothing but nod. "It came from around the corner," she whispered, accepting the stake that Gunn gave her. As silently as possible they ran the distance down the block and around the corner.

The vision that greeted Fred made her halt suddenly, causing Gunn to barrel into her. It was Buffy they found, and she was being attacked by a vampire. Just the vampire, fangs inches away from her neck, seemed almost frozen—as if he was about to bite down, but decided at the last minute to pose for a painting. "What's going on?" Gunn muttered, staring at the display with wide eyes.

"Shhhh!" she hissed already going over the scene. The vampire was shocked, staring at the slayer's neck with something akin to horror. It only took Fred another couple minutes to figure it out. "Her scar!" Fred said, forgetting that they were supposed to be quiet, "The vampire bite on her neck… Angel gave her that."

"Marked her," Gunn added beginning to catch on.

The vampire looked up, stared right at them with its yellow eyes. Fred gave a little squeal having forgotten that the vampire could hear them. "Angelus…" it whispered in fear, staring back at Buffy. "This is his town…"  
  


Gunn stepped forward, stake in hand. "Drop the girl," he commanded, puffing out his chest, "and I'll let you live." Wesley once posed as Angel, why couldn't he?

The vampire sniffed the air. "You're not him," he declared, fear gone from its features. 

Gunn winced… that was why. "No, but you're touching his woman," smiling now, Gunn approached the vampire with a threatening stance. "You can almost feel his fury in the air. Angelus is out for revenge. I almost pity the poor demon he lays it on." 

Unsure now, the vampire backed away a few steps. He looked around as if Angel might appear any moment and slit his neck. "I'm hungry," he whined, looking at Fred.

"Find a meal somewhere else," Gunn commanded, following the vampire's gaze.

"What about her?" the vampire asked gesturing to the brunette, "Does she have Angelus' mark?"

It all happened so fast that Fred didn't quite know how she got the first couple of bruises. The vampire with the Metallica shirt dropped Buffy on the ground with a dull thud and was clutching Fred by the hair no more than five seconds later.

Fred screeched and gave a few futile struggles. Gunn was angry now, clutching his stake so tightly that his hand was beginning to become cold from the lack of blood. "You shouldn't have done that," he threatened.

"Buffy!" Fred cried, "Buffy, help!"

The slayer just moaned, rolling around on the ground a little, clutching her head. Fred realized with a sinking feeling that the slayer was going to be of no help at all. Whatever she was going to do she had to do it herself… and soon. She could smell the vampire, dried blood, mucus, alcohol—it was no wonder that Buffy had passed out.

She could see Gunn coming towards her out of the corner of her eye and she could feel the vampire's fangs against her neck. In one quick motion she brought her hand up and with a little cry drove it right into the vampire's crotch.

The vampire shrieked and let go of her. She stumbled trying to catch her breath. "You little bitch!" he snapped, holding onto himself and wheezing.

Gunn barreled into him from behind. The vampire flopped around on the ground for a moment before Fred remembered the stake Gunn had handed to her before. Picking it up from where she had dropped it when the vampire had seized her, she brought it down into the vampire's unbeating heart in one quick motion.

Stepping back as the vampire exploded into dust, she took a deep, shuddering breath. "You okay?" she asked Gunn who was staring at her with wide eyes.

"Wow," he managed to say.

She smiled shyly. "Buffy isn't the only one who can handle herself in violent situations."

He winked. "I noticed." 

Remembering the slayer, Fred walked over to where Buffy was lying on the ground. She was awake now, staring up at them with big, wide eyes. She tried to speak, but the words got stuck  in her throat.

When she looked at Fred her eyes were pleading, confused, and so lost. It broke Fred's heart. "She doesn't recognize me," she murmured sadly.

Gunn reached out and squeezed her hand comfortingly. "We found her."

"She looks so lost…" Fred shook her head. "Buffy can you hear me? Buffy?" her voice cracked slightly, "It's going to be all right. Angel's going to help you…" 

Fred thought she saw a flicker… of something in the blonde's eyes. A small light of recognition. "Angel?" she managed to whisper.

Fred nodded. "He's going to help you."

She shook her head. "Can't. So lost. Don't know where I am… don't know where I want to be…" a light dawned in her eyes. "Home? Where's home?"

Fred looked at Gunn helplessly. He shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. Bending down, he lifted her up and threw her gently over his shoulder. "She's not too heavy," he mouthed to Fred, "and we're close to the Hyperion."

Fred tried to smile. Clasping Buffy's hand she tried her best to smile. "We'll take you home, Buffy. Don't worry."

***

"Goo! Goo! I HATE GOO!" Cordelia shrieked running a hand through her short brown hair which was filled with green mucus.

Wesley, equally covered in slime, made a face. "May I remind you that *you* were the one who got the vision and *you* were the one who insisted on coming out to kill it!"

0

"Yeah, well," Cordy retorted trying her best to mimic Wesley's accent, "you were the one who did the research! And *you* were the one who forgot to read about the part where the creature blows its NOSE whenever it feels like it's in DANGER!"

"That's not his nose!" Wesley snapped.

"If it wasn't his nose then what the hell spewed this yucky green liquid all over us?" Cordelia shrieked.

Wesley blanched. "That's a private question."

Cordelia's eyes went wide and she glance at the demons long *thing* that just happened to be coming right out of the middle of its ugly face. "Oh, ewww," she muttered. Then, looking down at herself she made another face. "Ewww, ewww, ewww…"

"It's actually surprisingly clean for such a big—"

"I don't want to hear it! Don't want to hear it!" Cordelia hissed covering her ears with her hands. "I'm going to be sick," she moaned.

Wesley's phone rang. Frowning, he answered it, "Mmm… Angel? Pardon?" Wesley thought a moment, "Demora? No… I've never heard the name before," the ex-watcher listened for a moment. "You're just going to rush in there… no, I haven't heard anything from Gunn or Fred… fine, rush in there." Wes sighed, "We'll be there in a moment. Be careful." Wesley looked back at Cordelia who still had her hands over her ears. He cleared his throat. "Uh, Cordy…"

"Don't want to HEAR IT! Don't. Want. To. Hear. It!" Wesley grabbed her arm. She shrieked and glared at him. "What?" she asked testily.

"That was Angel… he's found a lead."

***

Angel wasn't surprised to find that the address that Lilah had given him led to an upper class neighborhood. Was even less surprised to find the house was three stories high with a pool in the backyard. 

Angel was willing to bet that this "Demora" hadn't bought the house in the literal sense of the word.

The vampire let out an involuntary growl. He wanted to lay his hands on this spellcaster's neck, wring it until it popped, then cut open his heart and… he shook his head. No, he couldn't let his baser instincts take over. He couldn't kill the man. He needed him to reverse the spell on Buffy.

'If it isn't too late already!' his mind screamed. 'Might as well just torture the man…'

Angel walked somewhat unsteadily up to the door. Didn't bother to ring the doorbell, just broke the lock and walked in. He knew his instincts had been right. Demora obviously didn't own the house. Angel could feel him, feel the dark power the house radiated, and knew that it was a very real human being casting this spell.

He walked up the stairs letting his senses guide him. Didn't bother to rush, knew that wouldn't help anything and also knew the spellcaster could feel his presence already.

Angel was right. Demora was waiting at the top of the stairs for him, a look of utter peace and calm on his face.

Angel sucked in his breath when he got a good look at his foe. Chiseled face, strong arms, thin, narrow chest… Angel recognized him at once. 

"You shouldn't have come here," Angel warned in a low voice.

"I know," a clipped British voice answered, "it's just… Buffy's so appealing when she's in pain."

"Reverse the spell."

Sitting down on the floor, he crossed his legs, pushed his hands together and shut his eyes. "Uh… no," he replied, not opening his eyes. Angel growled and rushed towards him. "I wouldn't do that. One false move and I'll stop her heart from beating. She wants to die, did you know that? I could make that happen… make all her dreams come true…"

"What do you want, money? Protection from some trouble you got yourself in?"

Ethan Rayne opened his eyes. "No, I just want confusion. Mayhem, panic… loneliness, despair." He grinned, "Besides, it's really all just payback for putting me in that god forsaken jail out in the middle of nowhere for two YEARS!"

Angel advanced on him. Ethan opened his eyes, murmured something in Latin, and Angel was hurled backwards down the stairs. He banged into a wall, needing a few moments to see straight again. 

"I said," Rayne warned with venom in his voice, "not to do that!"

"I know someone," Angel mused, standing up painfully, "who grew addicted to magic. Nearly cost her life."

Ethan wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "Oh, now, isn't that just the saddest thing I've ever heard." He sneered, "I don't care. Go. Away."

Angel began walking up the stairs again. "Take the spell off her."

The man sighed. "Didn't we cover this? I believe my answer was along the lines of…. No. Absolutely not," he smiled. "Have a good day."

Angel growled letting his demon face break free. "You drive a tough bargain."

"You know," Ethan began tapping a finger thoughtfully against his chin, "they teach you a few things in military jail. Like 'enclose' for example." A shield that Angel ran into propelled him down the stairs for the second time. "Oh, dear," Ethan murmured, "I seem to have activated some kind of… barrier around myself." He sneered, "Now go away."

Angel considered him for a moment before turning and leaving the house. He was so angry, he could barely concentrate. Snarling, he ripped out his cell phone… and accidentally crushed it to little pieces. Letting out a howl of half frustration and half anger, Angel sprinted down the street to the nearest convenience store. Aware of the precious time that was slipping by, Angel took a few seconds to calm down before calling Wesley in the phone booth. He let out another annoyed hiss when he saw the price of making a call had gone up yet again. 

Angel could almost hear the clock ticking as he searched his pants for spare change. The clock sounded like Buffy's heartbeat, and he was terribly afraid that if he didn't get the spell off her soon, it would stop ticking. Hands shaking lightly, he dialed the familiar number, told Wesley where to meet him with backup and to bring a book to counter protective shields.

When Angel, marginally calmer but still out for blood, returned to the house, Ethan was still sitting at the top of the stairs, hands together, eyes closed, a peaceful look on his face. Looks could be deceiving, Angel knew, and he didn't have any doubt that in order to keep the confusion spell *and* the barrier up, Ethan needed to be working very hard.

"How much is Lilah paying you?" Angel asked, pacing back and forth in the front hall hoping to distract the Brit.

Ethan cracked one eye open. "Still hanging around, I see," he muttered with annoyance. "And none of your business, I dare say."

Angel laughed. "That much?" Gesturing around, Angel cracked a smile, "And this house? How did you come about living in it? Did they kill the owners for you? Or did you take pleasure in doing that yourself?"

"Family's away on vacation, if you must know," Ethan snapped sarcastically, opening his eyes. "Now, be a good little vampire with a soul and go away."

Angel clapped his hands together in a sudden movement causing Ethan to give a little jump. "You don't seem to get it, Old Man. I'm not going away. You, unfortunately, became my business when you chose Buffy as your victim. See, love is a funny thing. It makes people act irrational, strike out when they don't mean it… kill for it."

"And you know all about killing and striking," Rayne retorted. "When you and Ripper's slayer seized the day all those years ago. That was irrational, wasn't it?"

Angrier, Angel continued pacing. What right did this man have? Calling his and Buffy's only time together irrational? To put that spell on Buffy, to make her suffer even more, to tear them apart, make their differences so blatant that it was beginning to give Angel a headache.

This time Ethan smiled. "You're really not all that different." Angel's head snapped up. "If only you knew what I was talking about."

Wesley, Cordelia, and Gunn chose that moment to come running in through the door. "Angel, dude, we're here, don't try anything stupid!" Gunn cried coming to stand beside the vampire.

Angel frowned. "Where's Fred?"

Gunn avoided his eye. "Staying with," mumbling into his hand, "Buffy."

"That bad," he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut, "that bad." Ethan Rayne was going to *pay* for this. Looking at Wes and Cordelia his eyes widened. "What happened to you?"

Cordelia wrinkled her nose. "Wesley turned on a demon. The result was NOT pretty."

Wesley gave her an evil look before holding up a book. "I believe I know the source of his power. It's actually quite novice, should be easy for me to rectify."

Angel nodded. "Good, get rid of the shield he's using." Glaring up at him Angel said, "I'm ready for some hand to hand combat."

Wesley flipped through the book, found a page and began reading something in Greek. Alarmed when his shield began to pulse, disappear, then reappear, Ethan stood up.

He held out his hands in a friendly fashion. "Hey… let's talk about this first, shall we?"

Angel glowered at him. "Talk fast, shield will be gone soon."

Rayne gulped. "I can increase the confusion spell by 100%, enough so that Buffy will never be able to think normally again, even if it's removed."

"You're a dead man," Angel declared even as Wesley began to read faster. "Find something more convincing."

Ethan stood up and crossed his arms over his chest. "Say don't you need a little help binding your soul? Happiness a problem with you and the girl lately?"

Wesley looked up questioningly. "Keep going," Angel said, not taking his eyes off Rayne, "why should I trust you?"

Ethan shrugged. "I don't know. Haven't really done much that is trustworthy." Snapping his fingers, he said, "Oh, I know, perhaps because you'll *kill* me."

"Lose the attitude," Angel warned, "take the spell of Buffy, and we'll see."

"You're way better than me," Rayne patronized before looking up at the sky and saying, "Release!'" Looking back at Angel, he smiled. "Confusion all gone."

Wesley looked up, repeated something. The shield pulsed one more time before disappearing. Angel ran up the stairs, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "I don't usually kill people…"

"Only when they're lawyers," Cordelia supplied.

Angel turned back to glare at her. "That was special circumstances," he hissed between clenched teeth, "and I didn't *kill* them, I merely minded my own business."

She snorted. "Whatever you say boss."  
  


Angel sighed and turned back to snarling at Ethan. "I don't usually kill people," he repeated, "unless they piss me off."

"Let me guess," the spellcaster choked out, "I piss you off."

Angel snarled, game face on. "Got it in one."

"So," slapping his hands together rather painfully, Ethan smiled. "Let's talk about that curse, hmmm?"

Angel let him down… and punched him in the nose. 

"Ow! For God's sake's man! I'm talking about fixing your problem."

"I don't believe you."

Gunn nodded. "You just tried to kill his girlfriend, that doesn't make for a trustworthy relationship."

"Plus, he wants to kill you," Cordy added.

Angel sighed. "Alright," he hissed, containing a barely bubbling temper. "We're all going to go back to the Hyperion. We're going to check on Buffy. Then," looking at Ethan in anger he said, "the wizard will do his best to convince me not to kill him."

***

Fred was near tears. Buffy had been laying on Angel's bed for almost an hour. She was passing in and out of consciousness. Moans, groans, pleads to end it all kept escaping her mouth. Fred stood by her bedside, holding her hand and whispering reassurances. But there was only so much that she could do, and she was wondering just how long Buffy's will to live could survive. 

"Angel hurry," she whispered in her thick southern accent.

"Angel," Buffy repeated, his name and it seemed to roll of her lips like a recited prayer.

Fred resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She had to deal with their electric sexual tension at the best of times.  And it seemed that it didn't matter how delirious Buffy was, she still talked as if he had hung the moon.

"It's going to be okay," Fred said in her pathetic attempt at reassurance. Why did she get stuck with having to look after Buffy? It wasn't as if she could actually protect her if something came after her. Plus, she didn't know what to tell the semi-conscious slayer.

As if sensing Fred's distress, Dawn poked her head in the room. Her arms were wrapped around her thin, frail body and sympathy broke out on Fred's face. "How is she?" the girl whispered, eyes round with fear.

Fred tried to smile. "She's fighting, Dawny."

Her eyes filled with tears. "She always calls me Dawny. I used to hate that when I was younger."

Fred bit her lip. "She's going to be okay."

Dawn's bottom lip began to tremble. "You can't know that."

"Yes I can. Angel's not going to rest until he finds a way to help her."

"Angel knows less about what's going on then we do," Dawn snapped, staring at the ground. "He thinks he's already lost her."

For the first time, Fred was absolutely sure of herself. "No he doesn't. He's *afraid* he's already lost her."

"Same thing."

She shook her head. "No, fear will only make his resolve stronger."

As if on cue, Dawn's eyes widened. Buffy was sitting up, staring at them with eyes that could see clearly.

"Fred? Dawn? What's going on?" she asked, right before the world was blurred in a torrent of tears.

***

Angel had a bad feeling. 

He knew that there wasn't something right with Buffy. He knew that even if the spell had been taken off, she's spent too long in a confused, dazed world. Who knew what she would do? She hadn't known where she was for the longest time and Angel was afraid of the long-time effects that might have on his strong slayer.

When they pulled up in front of the hotel, Angel couldn't get his door opened fast enough. When he was running towards the hotel, he couldn't get there fast enough. And once inside, it felt like it took miles to get to his bedroom.

Once there, he sucked in a deep unnecessary breath when he laid eyes on his Buffy curled up into a fetal ball and being rocked in Dawn's arms. She was crying, he knew that much. When Dawn saw him, her face was filled with relief. Without hesitating she let Angel take her and cradle her gently.

He whispered soft words of comfort, rocking her much the way that Dawn had. He barely noticed the slayer's sister leaving the room, followed closely by Fred. He was only aware of the way that Buffy was gripping on to him, a look of confusion and loss in her eyes.

She kept repeating his name over and over. Almost like she was hanging on to it like a lifeline. Hanging on to *him*. Guilt wracked him, and he wished that he had been fast enough, smart enough, and strong enough to have been able to save her earlier. He also knew how happy it made him to know he was her connection to the world.

And Angel was sure of one thing, Ethan Rayne was going to die.

Finally, her tears stopped, and she brought her big tear stained face up to his. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

Sorry? She was saying SORRY? What did *she* have to be sorry for?

Some of his shock must have shown on his face because she said, "I've been so on the edge the past while. I know I've put you through a lot. I know I've been more grumpy, suicide Buffy then happy Buffy and… I'm sorry."

"Buffy," Angel croaked, not sure what to say. He hated the confusion on her face, and hated that he didn't know her as well as he used to.

She tried to smile, but failed. Taking a shaky breath, she moved her hand to cup his cheek, looking at him with love. "You don't know how much you've given me this year."

"I… well… I…" Angel trailed off, lost in her gaze. Words were meaningless anyway. Nothing in any language could ever describe what he felt for this girl. 

She let out another choked sob. Closing her eyes, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close and resting her face against his. "I didn't know where I was…"

"I know," he whispered, pain and regret evident in his voice. "I wish that you didn't have to go through that…"

"Didn't remember that this was life," she said softly, her tone becoming panicky.

"It's okay," he soothed, even as his voice became hoarse, "this is real. Everything's okay now."

She choked on another sob and Angel was suddenly afraid she might start hyperventilating. He rubbed her back, moving his hands in gentle patterns, listening to the pounding of her heart. She finally relaxed against him, but didn't let go of her fierce hold. "I wanted to go back to where I was warm and happy," she admitted, "I wanted to die again, Angel. But… I couldn't. I wanted to survive. I wanted to see you again."

"Shhhh," he whispered, not wanting to hear more of her painful speech. So he cupped her small face in his large hands and turned her to look at him. Rubbing noses, he gave her a small kiss, pulling away before the situation could become more intimate. "I'll always be wherever you are."

She bit her bottom lip nervously, tried to compose herself. "Thank you for never giving up on me."

Thanks? She was saying thanks? "Buffy… don't… I'm only sorry I couldn't have saved you sooner. I'm sorry that I lied to you about my dream." Angel realized that he was babbling, his words pouring out even as his chest tightened with guilt,  "I'm sorry that I let you go out earlier when you were angry. I'm sorry that I almost gave up…"

Buffy shook her head, pressing a hand over his mouth. She pressed a soft, feathery kiss to his forehead. "You saved me… you never really gave up." Removing her hand from his mouth, she pressed it to his heart and touched her lips to his. "Your heart would never let me go."

He closed his eyes, leaned against her, let her hug him. "Just don't leave me again," he pleaded, as her soft hands hovered over him. "Don't leave me again…" he repeated, suddenly afraid he was going to cry.

Buffy felt his warm tears against her neck, and she comforted him as he had done to her moments before. Her hands moved over his back, light touches that managed to send shivers down his spine. "I won't…" she promised, "I'm here… I'm not going anywhere. I'm your girl Angel."

Saying those words, remembering that last year they had spent together before he left, brought fresh painful tears to her eyes. She *was* always his. Nothing could be closer to the truth. And she was crying again.

Angel lifted his head just in time to see the tears leak out of her eyes. "I can't do this again without you…" he whispered firmly.

She shook her head. "You'll never have to again," she whimpered, even as his lips closed over hers.  The kiss was desperate, raw. Teeth bumped, hands gripped, and tears mingled. It was the kiss of two lovers needing each other desperately, but forced to live in so much pain. 

Buffy was beginning to become dizzy from lack of air, but it didn't matter. It was *Angel* and he was kissing her and had anything ever felt so right in the entire world? How could their love be the stuff nightmares were made out of? And what was she thinking about again?

She sucked in a breath once he pulled away. Touching her mouth lightly with a finger tip, Angel traced her face until he could wipe away her tears. She leaned into the palm of his hand and mouthed, "I love you."

He smiled warmly. "I love you, too," he said aloud.

"No more tears," Buffy decided. Sitting up, she gently kissed away the salty drops of water that Angel's eyes had been leaking. "It's time to start over. I promise I'm going to be better. I promise I'll embrace life again."

He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of Buffy's mouth kissing away his pain. He listened to her words, let it wash over him, like a beautiful symphony. He was beginning to drown in her, as it was so easy to do. Worry began to etch in the far corner of his mind, worry of knowing what could happen if he didn't do something soon. "I have some news," he finally said, breaking the terribly intense moment.

She pulled away, studying him seriously. If he was human, Angel knew he would have blushed under her intense gaze. It was almost as if she was undressing him with her eyes… and if she was feeling even half of what he was feeling….

Sighing, he moved out of her arms and got up off the bed. Moving to the other side of the room didn't really help things any. But he figured that moving to the other side of the continent wouldn't help things any, either.

Buffy Summers awoke feelings in him that no other had or possibly could.

"The person that did this to you is being tied up and guarded by the other's downstairs…"

"Who did this to me?" she asked, fear in her eyes.

Angel realized how much she was really holding in. How much she was trying to cover up. Angel growled, low and dangerously. Ethan had stirred up her memories, used them against her, and made her feel the worst thing possible.

What it was like to be lost and alone.

"Ethan Rayne," he spat, the words almost foul. 

Buffy looked at him with wide eyes. Then a little smile quirked its way across her face. Suddenly, she let out a noise that sounded like a snort.

Angel felt himself relax. 'She's OKAY!' his mind screamed. 'She's going to be okay!' And then he felt tired. This day had been too long, too hard, and all he wanted was to curl up with her and sleep. But he laughed anyway because he didn't know what else to do.

Buffy's hooted sounds of laughter joined his, and she lay back on the bed clutching her stomach. "I'm sorry," she gasped, "but the way you said his name…" she rolled over and giggled some more, "so angry!"

Angel's low bellied chuckles followed. "No one gets away with hurting you."

She grinned, sitting up. "Ethan, huh?" She shook her head, "Bastard."

Sitting down next to her, he tried not to show how relieved he was that she was able to laugh at the situation. "Yeah… what an idiot."

She grasped his hand, looked at him fondly. "Should have known better than to mess with *my* vampire." 

The two shared a secret smile. It was a smile that warmed Angel's cold heart. Sending shoots of warmth and joy through every part of his body. Buffy was *alive*. She was alive. She was with him. They were laughing together. And they had just shared an automatic lover's smile.

For that one moment, that one moment as they beamed at each other, Angel experienced a moment like he had only one other time in his whole life. It was a feeling of completion, of understanding, and happiness. Pure, untainted happiness. 

The moment passed and Angel had one horrible second to realize what had just happened before the pain hit him with full force. He gasped, dropping from the bed onto his hands and knees. His chest hurt, his lungs were fiery with the effort to draw breath, but he fought it. He could feel his soul being ripped away from his body, feel his demon soaring with life.

Buffy kneeled down next to him, touching his arms, her worried face looking at him. "Angel… what's wrong…"

'No!' his mind yelled, 'not now! She needs you! She needs YOU!' 

"Get out of here!" he gasped, fighting with everything he had.

"Angel… no…" her voice was so lost… so hurt. 

"Leave!"

 She backed away from him, collapsed against a wall. "No…" her hands hovered nervously around her throat, "NO!"

"LEAVE!" he hollered, so close to surrendering. She just stared at him with wide eyes. "Buffy, I love you… but get out of here now…"

She finally managed to stand up, move to the door. "I can't kill you again!" she protested, voice high pitched.

"Ethan," Angel closed his eyes, took a deep breath, "ask Ethan…"

"I love you," she whispered.

"GO!"

She nodded, opening the door. He heard her run down the hallway, going as fast as she could to the lobby where the others were. And he couldn't hold on any longer. Letting out a deep moan, he let go.

He rose to a standing position. Cocking his head to the side, he listened for the sound of human life. Grinning, Angelus looked around his room. The bed was ruffled from where him and Buffy had been snuggling lately. He sniffed the air, her vanilla scent still hung in the air.

Laughing, he walked slowly and calmly towards the door. "My, my, now isn't this an interesting turn of events."

The End 

A/N: Well. It's not TOTALLY over. Only Drip, Drip, Drip is over. I know it doesn't mean much now… but… I'm almost certain there's going to be a happy ending eventually.


	13. The Demon Within

Title: The Demon Within

Author: Goldy

Email: thegoldoneb_a@hotmail.com

Disclaimer: Joss'. No suey.

Synopsis: Buffy and the gang deal in the wake of a newly returned Angelus.

Spoilers: None.

A/N: This has nothing to do with what's currently being televised on Ats and BTVS. I wrote this chapter LONG before the spoilers of Angelus coming back were out.

A/N2: After much thinking, I've decided not to disallow anonymous reviews. As many of you know, I've been under a much cruel attack by various B/S shippers for my offing of Spike in an earlier chapter. I'll just keep erasing the reviews… it's a pain, but I don't really mind. But I ask, though, those of you who are going to be offended by a B/A fic, and, clearly, NOT a Spike friendly fic, to just not read it. Thank you.

Dedication: Laura for the quick beta. Go read Saileach Go Deo's wonderful W/T fic!

Rating: PG

Feedback: Yes, do I ever need it. While I don't let flames really get me down, they do something to your confidence.

Cordy was getting a snack. Fighting yucky demon parts, dealing with missing slayers, and saving vampires with souls certainly worked on her appetite. All she wanted to do was sit down, watch some cheesy TV, and eat a sandwich. 

It sounded perfect.

Which, of course, meant that it was never going to happen. She was just spreading peanut butter on one piece of bread when Buffy barreled into the kitchen. 

And straight into her arms.

Sobbing.

Cordelia's first thought, she had to admit, was, 'She's finally going to apologize for all the times she was mean to Angel!'  But then Buffy lifted her head, eyes wide and terrified and Cordelia knew that it wasn't so simple.

"Oh god," she whispered, "what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" Buffy shrieked, half-hysterical, "Nothing! I didn't do ANYTHING! We weren't even TOUCHING!"

Cordy's heart bottomed out. "No!" she hissed, "No! No! No!"

Buffy nodded her head, wiping tears from her eyes. "Where are the others?"

Cordelia gulped. It was okay. It was probably nothing. Buffy had been Ms. Suicide Girl all year long. Everything was fine. She was probably just hallucinating or something.

But Cordelia's hands started shaking, and she grasped Buffy's arm. "In the lobby."

The two of them walked out, Cordelia clinging to the big strong slayer, and Buffy feeling like the world was collapsing down around her. They were all smiling in the lobby, celebrating saving the day. With a sick feeling in her stomach, she noticed Ethan tied up in the corner. Gunn and Wesley both had loaded tranquilizers trained on him, and Fred was pacing around, chatting and joking cheerfully.

Buffy let go of Cordy. As if in a trance, she walked up to Ethan and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "What did *you* DO?"

He tried to sound dignified. "Whatever are you talking about?"

Her mouth was set into a firm line. "I'll kill you," she warned. "I'll KILL you!"

"Buffy, good heavens, what is going on?" Wesley asked, coming up to her and watching with mild panic as she held the other Brit up in the air.

Voice as cold as ice, she looked Ethan deep in the eye. "Angelus," she said simply. The entire room seemed to tense and freeze at the mere mention of the name.

"Angelus? You mean… Angel without a soul?" Fred asked timidly.

"I mean, deadly killer," Buffy hissed, anger in her words, on her face, and in the fist she planned on using against Rayne. "I mean, the demon wearing my lover's face. The one who will kill us all because I can't kill him." She smiled chillingly, "Now, Rayne, I do suggest that you tell me what to do about it before I take some of my extra anger out on you."

Wesley watched, eyes growing wide as Buffy pushed Ethan against the wall, hand crushing his windpipe. _Angelus…_he let out a little shiver. This could have incredible effects. Angelus was ruthless, crazed, and the only one that could stop him was going insane herself.

Wesley couldn't help but feel a little twinge of sympathy for Ethan. The slayer was wild, and his face was turning a painful blue, the lack of air close to killing him.

Buffy removed her hand. "Now. Be a good boy and tell me how to fix it."

Ethan coughed, brought his hands up to his throat and tried in vain to remove Buffy's tight grip. "I didn't do it, I swear!" he choked, words sounding dry and scratchy. Buffy raised her fist. "Whatever happened was because he got a true moment of happiness…." Ethan stumbled, giving her an accusing glare. "I happened, for once, to have nothing to do with it."

Buffy pressed her hand against his windpipe again and watched with no horror as he turned red and eventually passed out. Gunn could see the terror in the man's eyes, knew that he would have to be crazy to lie to Buffy. Walking cautiously, he lay a hand on her arm.

"I believe him," he murmured, trying to sound as calm and reassuring as possible. "And I think he may be able to bring Angel back…."

Buffy snorted, shrugging the hand off and not looking away from Ethan's face. Her gaze was that of a predator summing up a precious prey.

"If you kill him," Gunn whispered, "then you'll never get Angel back."

Buffy bit her lip, finally nodded and let go of Ethan. He slumped to the floor, a messy tangle of arms and legs.

She looked at Gunn, "Watch him… I want to talk to him when he wakes up." 

Cordelia let out a shriek, hand held over her mouth. Buffy whipped around, drawing a stake from under her pant leg. Eyes fierce, she was momentarily put off by the sight of Cordelia standing there in mild panic with her eyes wide.

"Dawn…" she whispered, the single syllable sending shivers down Buffy's spine as she remembered her sister.

Who wasn't in the lobby.

Who was in the hotel.

The hotel that Angel knew the way around.

The hotel that Angelus was in.

And Dawn was alone.

And Dawn didn't know.

***

Dawn was reading a romance novel. She had borrowed it from the library at school. Libraries in LA weren't like the ones in Sunnydale. They were all but exploding with books. You could find anything, from Shakespeare to Twain. Dawn had recently discovered the wonderful world of Nora Roberts. 'Naked in Death,' the title said.

Dawn loved it. Now here were two people that had issues, were different, were star crossed, but just… weren't as bad as Buffy and Angel. And, damn, it was romantic. 

And hot, she thought, thinking of Roarke. Blushing a little, Dawn heard someone walking towards the room. Quickly, she hid the book under her pillow and pulled out her rumpled science notes.

Not that Buffy would notice. Buffy hardly noticed anything about her. She almost wished that Buffy knew she spent most of the day at school daydreaming, staring off into space and missing every question the teachers asked her. When Dawn did something bad, Buffy noticed for a little while.

And then forgot about her.

Dawn looked up when Angel sauntered into the room and leaned against the door frame. She relaxed. Angel was cool. And he actually cared about her. Unlike her sister. He was smart. The only reason that she wasn't failing is that he actually knew stuff. Like algebra and history.

He smiled pleasantly. "Doing your homework?"

Dawn nodded, thinking guiltily of the book hidden under her pillow. She felt bad for lying. Not that Angel would care that she was reading, he encouraged it. It was just more fun to have something that *her* secret.

He entered her room, wandering around aimlessly, finally turning his back and looking at pictures on her bookshelf. "This is a nice one," he said, holding up a shot of Dawn and Buffy at the beach. They had just built the world's biggest sandcastle and were sitting next to it, wearing matching proud smiles.

She nodded. "Dad took that before we moved. It was the last time I can ever remember Mom and Dad being together for a whole day without fighting."

Angel smiled, putting the picture down. He lifted a stuffed teddy bear and fiddled with it idly. "That must be a good memory."

Dawn tapped her fingers on her homework. Something was wrong, she could feel it. "Is… Buffy okay?" she asked timidly, voice close to cracking.

"Buffy's fine," Angel answered, back still to her, still facing the bookcase.

"Oh…" Dawn murmured in relief. "I'm glad… she was a mess before."

"She was," he agreed darkly. 

"Angel…" she gulped, feeling suddenly like running and not sure why. She tried to control the pounding of her heart. "Is there something wrong?"

He closed his eyes, though she couldn't see him. He could smell her fear. Knew that it would soon turn to panic. Remembered how good panic tasted. "Everything's fine," he whispered soothingly.

"Oh…" she paused, thought. More cheerful, she started again, "I knew that you could help her. I knew you wouldn't give up on her."

He chuckled. "That's what I love about you, Dawn. Your naiveté. Your sister used to be like that," he smiled, "but I took it away from her."

Her heart sped up. Her throat felt dry, parched. "What… what do you mean?"

"I gave up on Buffy a long time ago."

She sucked in a breath, even as warning bells went off in her head. "I… I want a drink of water." Dawn scrambled for the edge of the bed.

Angel turned around, letting his fangs show. Dawn gasped, horrified, seeing the ridges protruding from his forehead, the malice in his eyes. "Actually, now that I think about it, I'm quite thirsty as well," Angel drawled, moving towards her.

Dawn shrieked moving back on the bed, pressing her back against the wall. 'Oh god, oh god, oh god….' Her breath hitched out in short painful breaths. "Angel?"

He smiled gleefully. "A little too happy for that, don't  'ya think?"

She searched wildly for an exit. The only one, Angel was blocking. "How… how…" she gulped nervously, as he came towards her. 

"I think you know how," Angel whispered. "Don't you just love the irony in this? Your sister sacrificed her life to save you. A year later, because of her, you're going to die."

"Buffy!" she yelled, "BUFFY!" 

Angel grabbed her around the throat, choking off her screams. Dawn kicked and thrashed. Angel let out a growl. "You're making this difficult."

With a muffled groan, she managed to slash her fingernail down his cheek. He howled and let go off her. Falling to the ground, Dawn climbed on her hands and knees towards the door. If she could just get out of the room. If she could just get to the stairs. If she could just call Buffy.

It would be okay.

And the door was getting closer. Closer, closer, she forced herself towards it. Only to shriek and be pulled back when a hand closed around her ankle and yanked her backwards. Lying on her back, Dawn fought brokenly with her hands in front of her face, like she was trying to get rid of a pesky mosquito.

Angel pinned her hands down to the floor, his knees on her legs. All she could do was stare helplessly into his vampire face. Blood from her nail wound trickled down his face and he grinned, licking at it with his tongue.

"I've always loved Summers' blood," he remarked, like this was a normal conversation. He bent his face towards her neck, intending to bite down, but choosing at the last minute to pull away and look into her terrified face.

"Hmmm," he murmured thoughtfully, before breaking the wrist of the hand that had slashed him. Dawn let out a pained, weak whimper.

Angel knew she had given in.

So he smiled, nodded. "That's better." Again, he lowered his fangs to her throat, listening to the way her heart was racing. "I wonder if you'll taste different because you're the Key," he muttered thoughtfully into her ear before biting down.

Her neck was softer than Buffy's. The softness that only a child could have. And her blood was good, sweet, tangy and tasted as a Summers should. There was just one thing missing. The slayer strength, the buzz that still filled his mind and senses when he thought of the one time Buffy had let him feed off her.

And then he was kicked in the head. Stunned, he rolled to the floor, blood staining his chin. He looked up, right into the eyes of a very mad Buffy Summers.

He smiled for her. "Why hello, lover."

She snarled, kicking him with all her strength in his most sensitive spot. She held up her stake like a shield. "Get out of here."

He choked, the sound filled with pain. "You still can't kill me," he pointed out gleefully.

"Get out of here," she repeated. "Don't think I won't do it, because I will." 

He snarled. "Now that's just the sweetest thing that I've ever heard."

She kicked him again. This time, he managed to stumble up. He licked his fangs, clearly showing the pleasure he'd had in drinking from her sister. 

But he left. He slunk out the room, managing to look cocky, even with a slight limp to his walk. Buffy's eyes followed his back as he left, her face hard and determined. Fierce, as a slayer should be.

And then he was gone.

Her face crumpled. It was too much. Too much in too little time. The slayer was strong, a warrior. But the girl that lived in her was quickly losing her fire.

She made a beeline for her broken little sister. Conscious, curled up in a fetal ball, Dawn rocked back and forth. Her eyes were wide and terrified as Buffy came towards her. Buffy lay a protective hand on her shoulder. Dawn flinched, moving away. She closed her eyes and swayed, weak from the blood loss.

"We need to get you to a hospital," Buffy said firmly.

Dawn shook her head. "What did you do?" her voice was low, hurt, and accusing. 

"I…" Buffy trailed off even as alarms went off in her head. Angel's soul was gone. That meant that he'd had a true moment of happiness. It meant that she had made him happy, truly happy for the second time in his life. It was her fault. All her fault, and now the man she loved was gone, and the evil monster who wore his face was out to kill the people she loved.

Buffy shuddered, tears springing up in her eyes. "I didn't do anything, Dawn," she whispered, voice pained. "I just smiled… just smiled at him…" gulping, she squeezed her eyes shut, grabbing for her sister's hand blindly. Dawn took it, feeling how cold and clammy it was. "It's not fair… we didn't do anything… anything…"

Dawn sniffed, nodded before standing up wobbly. Buffy opened her eyes, noticed Dawn's injuries and the way she was swaying. If she had been only a moment later… Buffy didn't want to think about what could have happened. Hefting Dawn up into her arms, Buffy cradled her gently, almost like she was a baby.

With great effort, Dawn managed to smile at her. "It's going to be okay," she said reassuringly, before passing out in Buffy's arms.

And silent tears trickled down the slayer's cheeks.

***

The faint smell of death hung in the air. Buffy could smell it, feel the way that it prickled the hair on the back of her neck and tickled her arms. The walls were white, the chairs were hard, and people were bunched together. Waiting. Flinching, faces filled with fear and hope as the doctors came to tell them the news of their loved one.

Some died.

Some barely lived.

And others walked out smiling.

It was a hospital, and Buffy hated them. Hospitals meant that the control was no longer in her hands. Life or death no longer became her decision. Instead, she was forced to wait. Huddled, legs drawn protectively up to her chest, she sat and waited for the news of her sister. The forms had all been filled out, but she couldn't remember anything that she had said.

Wesley, Gunn, and Cordelia had been there numerous times during the day. Reassuring her, bringing her coffee and food. She had accepted it all numbly. Fred had refused to leave, saying that it was her fault that Dawn had been alone. Buffy hadn't said anything to that. She knew whose fault it really was and didn't think she could stand the guilt of admitting it out loud.

Buffy had arrived at the hospital with Dawn still in her arms. A bandage haphazardly strewn about her neck. The doctors had taken one quick look at her before rushing off to the ER, leaving Buffy with nothing but her sister's blood staining her clothes.

She sat, not being able to cry, too hurt and pained to feel anything at all. Wishing so hard that Angel, her Angel, was there to comfort her. Wished that he was there to hold her and whisper words of nothing in her ear and be strong for her. 

And her thoughts turned to death. Because her sister had almost died again. And Angel was out there running around. And someone had to do something because Angelus would kill and kill and kill. Buffy knew who the slayer was, knew whose job it was to run that stake through her lover's heart. But she couldn't even think about it without trembling, couldn't imagine it without hyperventilating.

Couldn't, wouldn't, do it.

Fred wrapped her arms around Buffy, seeing the way she shivered, the way she rocked back and forth. Not knowing Fred had it in her, she comforted the poor little blonde girl. She rocked her gently, whispered soothingly and didn't allow the slayer to see her own tears of frustration.

***

Wesley was rifling through a big, brown, billion year old, leather book. Cordelia's face turned into a grimace. Like that was going to help. She looked around the room, saw how Gunn was sitting in a pile of weapons, watched as Ethan struggled uselessly against his chains.

Cordy wanted to be alone. She wanted to think. She wanted to weep. And she wanted to remember her good friend Angel. She couldn't be alone because her good friend Angel was more evil than good, and Buffy had made them all swear not to go anywhere alone.

Something in the slayer's eyes, the look of death maybe, had told Cordelia that she had better follow the advice. Thinking of Buffy made Cordy's heart swell with pain. On a good day she merely tolerated her boss' girlfriend. But the way her face had looked when she came downstairs with a broken Dawn in her arms…. Cordy didn't think she'd ever be able to have a day when she wouldn't think of that look.

Helplessness. 

Buffy. Strong Buffy. Who had been to heaven and back, who had still gone on, was close to breaking down. Cordelia squeezed her eyes shut. If only she had followed the Annoyingness this morning… then none of this might have happened.

Opening them, she looked back at Rayne tied up in the corner. Then at Wesley reading his useless book. Then at Gunn sharpening a sword. Picking Wesley, she walked up to him, slamming her hand down on the book and shutting it with a noise that seemed to explode around the hotel.

All eyes turned to stare at the ex-cheerleader questioningly. "We need to do something."

Wesley frowned. "I was before you caused me to lose my page."

She shook her head. "That's not doing something, Wesley," she hissed, "that's doing pathetic research." She glared at Gunn, "And you! Wasting artillery, we should be using our energies to get Angel back!"

The black man barely looked at her. "He's not good, Cordelia. And I sure as hell ain't ganna wait around for him to kill us."

Her eyes blazed. "I don't want to just "wait around". But you don't seem to get it, Gunn. If he came after us right now, he'd kill us. It doesn't matter how many weapons you have, he'd still kill us all." She glared at the three men, "The only person that's strong enough to stop him is having a mental BREAKDOWN! Which means it's up to us….." Baring her teeth, she pointed at Ethan, "And you! You know EXACTLY how to help Angel!"

Ethan Rayne smiled. "Yes, but what do I get out of it?"

The other's just stared at him blankly. Then, in unison, they rolled their eyes and cried, "You get to live!"

***

Buffy's nose itched. It was the smell of the hospital. The chemicals, the urine, and the hopelessness. It seemed to drip from the walls, hang in the air, and waft from the rooms. If she closed her eyes she would feel the despair surround her, threatening to choke and squeeze her in a deadly game that she could never win.

She shook her head, a useless gesture, trying in vain to get rid of the morbid images. "Hold on, Summers," she muttered under her breath. Just because she'd had a confusion spell put on her, caused her boyfriend vampire to lose his soul, and let him put her little sister in the hospital, didn't give her an excuse to give up.

Didn't matter how much she wanted to.

A sob tore its way out of her scratchy throat, rocketing down the hospital hall. Passing nurses and doctors didn't notice as they rushed by to attend to the sick and dying.

She sucked in a breath, guilty for thinking of giving up. She had promised Angel that she would get better. But Angel was gone, and the thing that wore his face was out to kill her.

'It's not too late!' her mind screamed, thinking of Rayne tied up at the hotel. Her heart tightened painfully with the knowledge that many could die before she got his soul back. Just because she needed him. People always died when she and Angel tested their love. And she was selfish, because she didn't care what the risk was. 

Blinking back tears, Buffy entered her sister's hospital room. Dawn was conscious and staring at her with an accusing gaze when she entered. "For a minute there I thought you had frozen over and you were going to go into a long deep sleep like the dinosaurs," she snapped, glaring at her older sister.

Buffy managed to give a little smile. "The dinosaurs?"

Dawn glared at her. "I'm angry, I've lost a lot of blood, and they put me on some weird drug! But you know what I mean!" 

Buffy gulped, glancing around the room nervously. "Dawn…" she whispered, "it's hard for me, you know that." Her eyes surveyed the white washed walls, the TV sitting in the corner, the drapes pulled firmly over the only window in the room. It was like a tight box. One that they could never escape from. It kept squeezing, squeezing, squeezing, and the walls were getting closer, closer, closer. And Dawn was lying in the middle of it. Dark smudges around her eyes, arm tied to an IV, her wrist was in a sling, and a bandage was tied securely to her neck. 

"How could you?" Dawn said, voice high pitched, and as hurt as only a sibling's could be.

"I didn't…" Buffy trailed off, looking at the ground. That was a lie. The only way for Angel to lose his soul was to get a moment of true happiness. And that meant it was her fault. She let out a breath. "We hadn't done anything, Dawny. I swear."

"So what?" she screeched, "he just decided to let the demon out?" Her eyes filled with tears,  "Don't lie to me, Buffy. You guys must have thrown caution to the wind, everyone else be damned, and had sex!"

"We *didn't*!" Buffy yelled, the meekness gone from her voice. Stamping her foot on the ground, she didn't notice as little cracks in the floor, like tiny spider webs, spread out around her foot. "We didn't do ANYTHING!" the tears that she had been holding back for the past few hours threatened to overflow. "All I know is the world suddenly came into view again… he was there… and then he…" she stopped, walked over to Dawn's bed. Sat down. Closed her eyes. "And then he wasn't."

Dawn let out a sob she'd been holding in and grabbed Buffy's hand. "I like Angel," she whimpered.

Buffy leaned forward and pushed a kiss to her sister's damp forehead. "We're going to get him back, Dawny."

She looked away from Buffy. "I was so scared when I figured out what happened…" she shook her head. "I knew something was wrong. But… not that. Never that. He was so mean, Buffy." She gazed back at Buffy and looked her right in the eye. "How could you let him get me?"

Buffy flinched. The same question had been on her mind as she had sat in the waiting room. As Fred had rocked her shocked body, Buffy's mind had been busily trying to understand why she didn't go check on Dawn first thing. 

"I couldn't think straight," she whispered, remembering her fear. "All I could think about was that I would have to kill him, but I couldn't, and I was so afraid that he would hurt someone that I love." Buffy didn't mention the fact that it was *Cordelia* that had finally remembered her sister in the end. "I'm so sorry, Dawny. I wish… I wish it could be different."

Dawn looked down at her covers, sifted the sheets idly through her fingers. "Do you love me?"

Buffy tenderly tucked a long piece of her brown hair behind her ear. "You know I do."

She stared up at her with shinning eyes. "More than you love Angel?"

Buffy chuckled softly. "Way more, Dawny."

The slayer's little sister smiled. "Liar."

The blonde shrugged. "We do have that whole star crossed thing going on."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "More like till death do all of those we know and love."  
  


Buffy sighed deeply, trying not to show how much the comment hurt. "Yeah."

"Buffy?"

"Hmmm?"

Dawn let out a deep breath. "You're not a bad sister. At least, you are when you don't take my clothes."

Buffy chuckled. "You're the one who always takes my clothes," she muttered indignantly, stretching out on the bed next to her. Dawn smiled and Buffy wrapped her arms around her. And the two Summers lay like that for a little while, hoping that maybe if they stayed long enough it would all be a dream.

***

Ethan Rayne glared at his captors. "That's a good point."

Gunn went back to sharpening his sword. "See, what I don't understand," he mused aloud, "is why we think this guy would be able to help us. Obviously, the big "spellcaster" can't even release himself from a pair of flimsy chains."

"They're not just flimsy chains!" Cordelia muttered indignantly.

"She's right," Wesley chimed in, "those were the chains that we used on Angel the last time he reverted back to Angelus."

Gunn stopped sharpening his sword and looked up at them suspiciously. "About how often does this dude go evil anyway?"

"Usually only when Buffy's around," Cordelia supplied helpfully, "but happens occasionally when there are other damsels in distress."

"Such as poor defenseless actresses that want to stay young and beautiful forever, so they slip happy pills in Angel's drink," Wes added.

Cordy nodded. "That about sums it up."

"Oh," Gunn said absently going back to sharpening his sword.

Cordelia glared at him. "Stop it!"

"Stop what?"

"That!"

"WHAT?"

She gestured uselessly with her arms. "The sharpening of that sword! We'll just curse him again."

 Gunn threw the sword down. "Look," he hissed, "Angel once told me that I'd prove my trust if I could kill him."

"And he made me promise to kill him, too!" Cordelia shouted, "Angel likes being gloomy! We all know this!"

"Oh for the good lord's sake," Ethan Rayne sighed from the corner.

"SHUT UP!" they all yelled.

Cordelia walked up to Gunn and put a hand on his arm. "We need Angel, good Angel, more than we need him bad." Gunn stopped, and looked at a point above Cordy's head, mouth set in a grim line. "Buffy needs him," Cordelia whispered, well aware of Gunn's crush on the slayer. "We have to get him back, for her sake if nothing else."

Gunn finally groaned and threw down the weapon. He looked up at Ethan. "So how do we go about getting Angel's soul back?"

***

Buffy was humming softly under her breath as she rocked her little sister gently in her arms. Dawn looked so peaceful when she was sleeping. No nightmares threatened her slumber. Buffy was almost a little jealous. What she wouldn't give to have a night of perfect rest.

She tried not to remember how the nightmares weren't as bad when Angel was around. Her mind viciously reminded her that he was gone. And she might never get him back.

So she closed her eyes, and let the first tears slip out of them since the whole situation began. She wanted to curl up and hide. Wanted to forget that it was all happening. 

For not the first time in her life, she was faced with a situation she didn't know how to fix. And none of the options would make things better.

She shoved her fist in her mouth, attempting to muffle her sobs. The last thing she wanted was to wake up Dawn, now that she was finally sleeping peacefully. So she cried against her hand, resisting the urge to bite down, and let the cool salty feel of the tears slide down her cheeks and neck.

"Now, Buff, don't you think it's a little late to be throwing a pity party?"

Buffy turned around sharply, surprise and fear written on her face. She stumbled off the bed and turned to face Angelus. He was leaning against the doorframe, looking as cocky and self-assured as ever. Shaking his head, he reached his hand out, "Have I ever told you that the red swollen eyes wasn't your best look?"

Buffy's eyes darted nervously around. She stood shakily in between her lover and her sister. 'Oh god, can't deal with this now, can't deal with this now, can't deal with this now…'  

"How did you get in here?" she asked, in a sob choked voice.

He smiled, stalking dangerously towards her. "Public building, love."

The realization of that hit her full force. All the people down in the waiting room…

"Dead," Angelus answered, seeing the sudden fear written all over her face.

Buffy tried her best not to gag. "No…" she whimpered. He'd killed more people. And it was all her fault. Her vision swam, and the floor rocked back and forth. She couldn't deal with this. "It's day…" she protested meekly, as if he might disappear. Like maybe she was the one who had fallen asleep, and any minute now Angel would shake her gently awake, kiss her forehead, and tell her that life was worth living.

He laughed. "You can't really be that naive to think the sun could keep me away from you."

She took in a steadying breath, trying not to concentrate on the way the room kept swaying and how she was tired. So very tired. "Angel…" she whispered in a pained voice. "I wish…"

Angelus clucked his tongue. "Buffy, Buffy, Buffy…" he came towards her, gently touched one of her tear-stained cheeks. Vamped out. "It's so terribly sad, isn't it?"

She backed away from him. "Get away from me!" she hissed.

"It's so easy, Buff. I have to admit, killing you won't be nearly as much as it would have been three years ago." Angelus let out a pained sigh, looked off into space for a minute. "Doesn't mean I won't enjoy it any less…."

Buffy finally found some semblance of anger pooling in her stomach. Moving quickly, she grabbed the bedside table and broke off one of the legs. Holding the makeshift stake threateningly, she glowered at him. "If you think I'm going to let you near Dawn then you're wrong. Dead. Wrong."

Angel grinned. "She's so lovely lying there. Did I tell you how sweet her blood tasted?" he leered at her. "Although, not quite as good as her older sister's."

"Fuck you!" she spat, disgust curling in her gut.  But it was all in act. Because he was Angel. And she could never really hate Angel.

Angelus smiled, coming closer to her. Buffy froze, because they both knew she couldn't kill him. And her heart sped up at his nearness and she cursed herself because he could *hear* that. But she couldn't help it because he looked like Angel and she loved Angel so much and she wanted him so *badly*.

And Angel was still coming closer. She stumbled backwards; aware that she couldn't take him on with the condition she was in. He followed her still, grabbing her arm and roughly pulling her around to face him. Gripping both her arms, he pressed her firmly against his hard body. "There's nothing I'd like more," he breathed in her ear.

In spite of herself, Buffy shivered. "Let go of me," she commanded hoarsely.

"Is that what you really want?" he murmured.

His fingers were digging into her arms and his eyes were wild. With want, hate, or anger, Buffy didn't know. And she was so afraid because she wasn't sure if that was really what she wanted. Dawn. She needed to think of Dawn.

But it would be so easy… just let Angelus kill her… she could finally be free. Where there was no more pain, no more worries, and she could finally love Angel the way she always wanted.

"No!" she sobbed, trying to get a handle on her emotions. She couldn't let him kill any more people. He was *her* responsibility. She couldn't let him kill her.

Angel pushed his mouth to her in a bruising kiss that made Buffy want to throw up and sigh all at once. Emotions going crazy in her head, she struggled weakly to get out of his tight embrace. Finally, as if the slayer was coming back to her, she thrust her knee up into his groin. 

He threw her away from him, and she crashed against the bed, waking Dawn up in the process. Her sister woke up groggily, then shrieked upon seeing Angel in the corner. "No, no, no, no," she whimpered incessantly under her breath.

Hearing Dawn's petrified voice gave Buffy more strength. She struggled back up and managed to glare threateningly at Angel. Her eyes blazed with fury and barely controlled violence. 

"Get out of here," she breathed, rage in her voice. 

Angelus smiled, but turned. "Until next time, lover," he called over his shoulder.

"There won't be a next time," she declared firmly. "I'll kill you, Angel."

But then he was gone. Dawn was awake and terrified. And Buffy didn't know if she would be able to fight back next time she saw him.

TBC


	14. Blood part 1

Title : Blood part 1/2

Author : Goldy

Email : thegoldoneb_a@hotmail.com

Disclaimer : I hate you, ME.

Spoilers : None

Synopsis : Angelus. Pain. More pain. It'll be fun.

A/N : Major character death warning.

Dedication : My bud Laura who's a W/T shipper, major slasher, and has been betaing for me recently. She's been amazing, supportive, and wonderful. I couldn't get this out without her.

Feedback : Yes, please.

Raiting : PG-13

"So let me get this straight," Ethan began conversationally, "I bind Angel's soul back to him. Then you let me go."

Cordelia, Wesley, and Gunn glanced at each other nervously. "Well, we didn't say that…" Wesley protested.

Gunn picked up his broadsword and walked towards Ethan Rayne with a light step. Thrusting it into the wall beside the man's shoulder, he said, "No, I believe we agreed that you'd get to live."

Ethan looked at the sword protruding from the wall out of the corner of his eye. "Ahhh, I remember now."

Cordelia groaned, "We aren't getting anywhere! Who knows what Angel's already done!"

Gunn turned back around to look at her suspiciously. "How dangerous is he, really?"

Wesley took off his glasses and sighed deeply. Rubbing his forehead, he thought for a minute. "Angel has a killer living inside him constantly. Ruthless, bloodthirsty, cruel, driven half-insane by the soul's constant control of it. He's obsessed with art, with passion. Obsessed with Buffy like a madman. He wants to kill her, torture her, mate with her. There is nothing that will stand in his way. Once Angelus sets his mind to something, he will have it and kill everything in his way." 

"I'm sorry I asked," Gunn muttered. 

"He doesn't know the half of it!" Cordelia snapped, "You weren't even there when Angel went evil the first time!"

Wesley looked a tad miffed. "I assure you, I read up on Mr. Giles' journals quite extensively."

"You don't remember what it was like, Wesley! Reading up on his diaries one thing…. I mean, Angel killed his Giles' girlfriend. It's just… God…" stopping her rant, Cordelia abruptly left the room.

Ethan Rayne looked a little amused. "This is actually quite funny. Has anyone ever thought of taping this and putting it on TV?" 

The other men didn't even look at him. "Should we go see if she's alright?" Gunn asked.

Wesley looked in the direction Cordelia had gone. He knew she shouldn't be anywhere alone. "I'll go talk to her," he said. He looked at Gunn, "Find out what we need for the spell." Wesley was about to go after Cordy but turned back around  with a frown marring his face. "On second thought, find out what the spell actually entails, hmmm?

Once the Brit had left the room, Gunn glared at their hostage. "You're a terrible, sick man, you know that?"

"Why, thank you. I try."

Gunn sighed. "You heard the man, what does the spell 'entail'?"

***

Buffy didn't spare any time. Tearing off the IV lines, she hefted Dawn up into her arms. As Buffy was carrying her quickly down the hall she noticed that it was abandoned. The silence seemed to penetrate her ears until she was afraid she might scream just to make some noise. As she and Dawn neared the waiting room, Buffy's stomach sank. She had secretly hoped that Angelus had snuck in without seeing anybody. But that hope was dashed in a terror filled second.

What greeted her was a picture from a horror movie.

The nurse on duty was lying face down on her desk, throat slit and blood still trickling out. People were lying, crumpled against each other. Mothers, daughters, fathers, sons, friends, the hurt, and the healing. All were slumped in a sleep that they would never wake up from.

Dawn sucked in a deep breath. Buffy wanted to tell her to close her eyes. Wanted to rush her out of the place. But she was frozen. All those people… killed by one. Doctors rushed by, taking pulses, trying to identify bodies. She could hear the faint scream of a siren off in the distance. She knew that the police wouldn't be able to help. She was the only one that could do anything about the monster that had done this. 

But she didn't know how to.

And people cried. Great sobs of grief, the ones who were still alive clutched those dearest to them. It was a painful play of death. A mockery of everything the slayer stood for. 

It was hell.

And then Buffy lay eyes on someone else. Her mind slowly realized what was going on, and her jellied legs sprang into action. She put Dawn down, made her lie against as wall even as she retched and coughed.

Buffy ran across the room like she was possessed. Slumping down she took Fred's pulse and gave a little cry when she couldn't find one. The brunette was lying spread out in the middle of the room. Eyes were wide with fear and incomprehension.

"I'm so sorry," Buffy choked out painfully, touching one of Fred's lifeless hands. Blood was trickling down her neck, staining the white fabric of her t-shirt. The loss of her new friend shook Buffy down to her core.

Angelus was really back.

And he was out to strike against her friends. 'It's a warning,' she realized dully. Next he would come after Wesley, or Cordy, or even Dawn again. Then, when she had nothing left, he would take her and kill her. 'No,' her mind protested with fury. He would take her, when she had no will left to fight, and he would turn her.

She shook, grasping Fred's hand and whispering incessant apologies. She was so so sorry. That she was always too late. That Angel was the one foe that she loved and hated most.

A doctor put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Do you know this woman?"

The voice seemed to be coming from a long way away. Buffy squinted trying to focus on the woman's face. "Yes…" she cried softly, "I know her. I'm sorry."

The doctor's smile was of sympathy. "It's not your fault, dear." Taking Buffy's arm, she helped her up even as Buffy's mind sluggishly protested. It was her fault. All her fault. "There's nothing you could have done," the woman said kindly, leading her to one of the nurses with a clipboard.

The nurse asked her questions about Fred's family, her history, and Buffy answered them all as best as she could. But she hadn't know Fred for a very long time before she died. Buffy liked her a lot, she was really sorry that she died. She told the nurse that, and the nurse blinked, finally telling her that she could go.

Buffy nodded mutely. There were things that needed to be done. She needed to go find Dawn. Make Dawnie feel better. The past few hours had been difficult on her little sister. She would need support. And she had to let the others know. They all knew Fred better than her.

They would be sad when they learned what had happened.

*** 

"Cordy…" Wesley began, finding her in the kitchen.

She was pacing back and forth, opening shelves and putting things on the counter. She opened the fridge and took out a bottle of grape juice. "Would you like some?" she asked sweetly.

Wesley shook his head, not quite sure how to respond.

Cordelia shrugged, opening the grape juice and pouring some into a plate that she had taken out of the cupboard. She let out a little laugh. "Ooops! That's not going to help."

The ex-watcher felt his heart tighten in sympathy. Taking her arm, he gently extracted the juice from her grip. "I always find that tea is good for situations like this," he said calmly.

She groaned. "You weird English guys and your tea." Slumping down at the kitchen table, she lay her head on her arms as Wesley set about putting on the kettle. "I hate tea," she pouted.

Wesley stared at her, deep in thought. "You're hurt," he finally realized.

The old May Queen stared at him like he'd grown a second head. "Uh, can I just say, duh?"

"All those times that Angel talked about going evil you never expected it to happen." Taking mugs out of the cupboards, Wesley paused and thought again. "Now that it has you're mad at him for letting it happen. Especially for leaving Buffy like this."

She slapped the table, and Wesley gave a little jump. "How could he just do that? What could he *possibly* find even REMOTELY happy about the situation? Buffy almost died. AGAIN! And he was being all Suicide Boy and then BAM!" Cordelia hit the table again and Wesley sloshed some of the hot water from the kettle on his hand. "He turns into an evil, crazy, bent on killing us all fiend."

Sticking his burned finger into his mouth, Wesley nodded mutely. "I suppose that knowing Buffy was going to be okay made him content," Wesley mumbled.

She blinked at him. "Huh? Shuppose bushy wash shokay?" Wesley looked at her incomprehensibly, so she rolled her eyes and said, "Could you take your hand out of your mouth?" 

He sighed painfully, but dropped his throbbing hand down to his side. "Finding out that he hadn't lost Buffy after all must have come as a huge relief."

"I guess so," Cordelia admitted doubtfully.

Wesley poured the hot water into the two cups and sat down next to Cordelia. She accepted the mug of steaming tea gratefully. "Angel's mind works different from ours, we can't even hope to understand it," Wesley mused, "for some reason, Buffy makes him happier than no other. Perhaps all that it took was her to say something funny."

Cordelia took a sip of tea, frowned. Getting up, she brought the sugar bowl back to the table. "She probably only smiled at him," she said in a sarcastic, bitter tone, ladling five or six spoons of sugar into her cup.

Wesley couldn't hide his grimace of disgust. Thankfully, she didn't notice. "The trials of love. It's quite interesting how it makes different people react."

She snorted. "I'm going to be so pissed at him once we get him back."

Wes smiled. "And we will get him back, Cordy. I don't think Buffy would have it any other way."

Gunn came flying into the kitchen. The other two, finally relatively calm, looked up at him questioningly. He raised one finger, taking a few deep gasps of air. "I just talked to Buffy."

Cordelia could feel the colour drain from her face. "Oh God…."

"Angelus came to the hospital…" Gunn closed his eyes, sucked in a breath. 

Wesley sprang up, knocking his chair backwards. No one noticed as it hit the ground. "Good heavens, is everyone all right?"

Gunn let out a pained breath, slowly shaking his head. "Fred's dead."

***

The air was thick. The day was hot and humid and every breath that Buffy took was reeked in pollution and smog. She wanted to run. Run, run, run and never stop until the humidity stopped and drained her. Drained her until she couldn't feel anything at all. Because she was in so much pain, so much internal battle, that she would have given anything to stop it.

Dawn gripped her hand, weak from blood loss, sick from the scene at the hospital. Buffy half carried, half dragged her to the Hyperion. Once there, Dawn ran to the bathroom and Buffy winced as she heard her sister dry heave into the toilet.

Buffy almost wished that she could do that. Puke and puke until there was nothing left. Nothing but a shell, devoid of feeling and pain.

Cordelia rushed out to meet the slayer, tears streaming down her cheeks, a stake gripped in a shaking hand. Buffy reached out her arms and the two embraced. When they pulled away, Cordelia took Buffy's arm and led her to the kitchen. The others were there, Wesley and Gunn sitting at the table, weapons strewn about it. Ethan Rayne was tied to the refrigerator and the door kept opening and banging shut as he struggled to free himself.

Dawn came rushing in a moment later, face drawn and pale. Buffy offered her hand, but Dawn ignored and went and sat next to Gunn. The African American put a strong arm on Dawn's shoulder, a silent promise to keep her safe. Slightly hurt, Buffy moved to the other side of the kitchen, pacing relentlessly and not sure what to say.

For the first time, her heart swelled because she missed Wills and Xand and Giles. She missed Anya and Tara. At least then she knew where she stood.  But these were *Angel's* friends. The ones that he would give up his life to protect. It wasn't that she wouldn't do the same, they all mattered to her. But she was only the boss' girlfriend and she knew that she couldn't know what they were feeling. 

She had turned Angel evil. And he had killed Fred. Right in front of her nose.

She finally stopped her pacing, turning to look at the team. They were all sitting at the table now, faces drawn and worn. Worried frowns of grief masked their faces. They huddled together, accepting the warmth and comfort of each other. And Buffy was left on the other side of the room, somehow supposed to know how to lead them, how to get Angel back to them.

 She took a deep breath. "We need to be somewhere where Angel doesn't have an all access pass. Right now, we're sitting ducks. This place was made for a vampire and we're not safe during the day and especially not at night."

Cordy looked up at her tiredly. "Buffy, we just lost Fred. Can't we… take a day or something?" her eyes filled with pained tears. "Can't you just let us grieve? For one minute?"

Buffy's voice was as cold as ice. "Last time that I gave us a minute, Fred died. I will not let that happen again. Angel's cold, he's calculating, and he wants to kill you. So shut up and do what I say."

Cordelia shut up. Buffy refused to feel guilty for the flash of pain she saw flit across the seer's face.

Wesley gave Buffy a calculating stare, but merely said, "Angel's been invited into all of our dwellings." 

She nodded. "Okay, I figured as much." She looked at Gunn,  "What do we have for weapons?"

He waved a hand at the armory on the table. "Stakes, knifes, swords…"

Buffy chewed her lip thoughtfully. "No one goes anywhere alone. Ever. If you go to the bathroom, bring someone with you. If you want to go sulk, bring someone with you. I will not lose anyone else. Divide up the weapons, I want everyone to have at least one stake." Closing her eyes, she fought off a wave of dizziness. She was so tired of this routine. So tired of losing people she loved and fighting for those who were still alive. "Gunn," she walked up to him, placed a hand on his arm, "take care of Dawn. I don't… I don't know what'll happen to me. Promise me you'll look out for her."

He stared at her solemnly and nodded. "I won't let anything happen to her."

"Good." She walked up to Ethan Rayne and glared at him. "What have you got?"

"Well, uh…" 

"Can you keep Angel out of this hotel?"

"Doubtful."

She stared at him. "Fine." Still looking him in the eye, she said, "Wes, do what you can to keep Angel out of here."

She heard rustling and knew that he and Cordelia had left the room. "You don't have enough power to give Angel's soul back, do you?" she hissed belligerently.

He looked mildly amused. "I don't fancy getting killed by Angelus anymore than you do."

"You can't even put up a vampire shield around this hotel. You're nothing, Rayne(,)" she spat. "Because of you, my lover is running around out there *killing* everyone that he loves. And you *DARE* lie to me."

Ethan almost looked a little miffed. "May I remind you that *you* were the one that brought Angelus out to begin with, you spoiled little child."

Furious, Buffy brought her hand back and punched him. His head snapped back against the fridge and then dropped forward. Buffy stood, breathing hard. She could hear Cordy gasp behind her and knew that she and Wes had come back into the kitchen.

"Oh my god," she whispered, "you killed him." 

She shook her head, "No…" she protested weakly, feeling the ground roll beneath her.

"We'll never get Angel back now!" Cordelia cried, a sharp whine in her voice.

It was Dawn who finally stood up and shoved Buffy out of the way. With trembling fingers, she felt Ethan Rayne's pulse. She let out a deep breath. "He's still alive."

Buffy grabbed the counter, fought to stand up. She was the slayer. She was strong. "Okay," she managed, "okay… good." Woozily she stood on her own and shook her head. "But it doesn't matter," she muttered under her breath, "it doesn't matter."

No one moved towards her. Buffy thought she might cry. Or scream. They were all afraid of her. All afraid that the crazy slayer might finally lose it and hit them like she did Ethan. 

"What doesn't matter?" Gunn finally questioned.

"Rayne…" Buffy could still feel the world reeling around her. She was going to go to bed. She hadn't slept in two days. And they'd been such hard days. "I'm going to kill him," she declared, "I'm going to kill him before he can hurt more anymore people."

Turning, Buffy ran from the room. She didn't stop until she reached the bedroom and she and Angel shared. Lying down, she pressed her face into his pillow. Breathed in his scent. She closed her eyes and let it all go away, just for a while. Just for a little while.

***

Cordelia let out a tear strained breath. "What… what was that?"

"I kind of got the idea that Buffy was going to kill Angel," Gunn volunteered. "At least one of us is thinking straight," he added as an afterthought.

Cordelia could only stare at him with a horrified expression. "But… she *can't*! She can't just do that! We were going to curse him again!"

Wesley stared thoughtfully at the door that Buffy had just exited. "I believe that Buffy isn't thinking clearly."

"Gee, Wes, where could you have gotten that idea?" Cordelia snapped.

He glared at her. "Do try, for once, to have a little sympathy for someone else. Buffy is extremely sensitive at the moment—"

"You don't think I'm sensitive at the moment?" Cordelia shouted angrily. "I just lost two friends in one day!"

"Hey, now, that's not fair," Gunn argued, jumping into the heated argument, "you're not the only one that's lost someone."

"What do you care?" Cordelia cried snidely, "You're the one who wants to KILL Angel!"  
  


"No one else seems to realize that running around and crying won't do anything!" Gunn yelled,  "Angel let out his demon counterpart and I'm not going to sit by and wait for him to kill us."

"In case you've forgotten, getting Angel's soul back is much more beneficial to our cause then leaving him evil is." 

"Hey, English, all I'm saying is that while we're in here crying and feeling sorry for ourselves, Angel's out there on a killing spree."

"I can't believe this!" Cordelia hissed. "Don't you people have any feelings? I *need* Angel back." 

"And it doesn't matter who dies in the process," Gunn said.

She glared at him. "That's not true."

"Isn't it?"

Wesley looked at Gunn. "And you're so full of kindness. Volunteering to go out and put Angel down without regard to any of the possible consequences."

He put out his hands. "Hey, at least I'm the only one not sitting in a corner feeling sorry for myself."

"You don't know what you're talking about!" 

"I obviously know more than any of you do."

"Well, do argue over this while Angel is out there planning on murdering us all!"

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!"

Cordelia, Gunn, and Wesley lapsed into sudden silence, eyes landing upon Dawn. She was standing with her hands over her ears, body trembling. "Don't fight…" she whispered, "please… don't do this…"

Guilty, they exchanged eye contact. Wesley sighed. "Quite right, I'm sorry Dawn."

Gunn and Cordelia nodded. "This isn't going to get us anywhere," Cordelia acquiesced. 

 Dawn nodded, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. Sitting down heavily, she pursed her lips. "Someone should go up and sit with Buffy."

Cordelia snorted. "Like anyone would want to go up and spend time with insane slayer girl."

Dawn shot her a look. "She's the one who made us promise not to go anywhere alone."

"I'm worried about her," Gunn said, voice taking on a softer tone. "She doesn't know how to be strong anymore."  
  


Cordelia looked at the ground,  "Should we let her kill him?" she asked in a meek voice.

Wesley looked at Ethan, who was beginning to moan and stir. He shook his head. "I don't think, in Buffy's state of mind, that she would have any chance of winning a fight against Angel. Even if, somehow, we managed to overtake him and kill him, she might never recover."

"The only person that can help her…" Cordelia trailed off, looking sad.

"Is Angel," Gunn finished tiredly, with no small amount of jealousy.

Wesley nodded gravely.

"Fine, we'll try to return Angel's soul," Gunn agreed reluctantly, " but if that doesn't work… I'm going to kill him."

"I'll see what I can do to set up a barrier around the hotel," Wesley decided.

Cordelia groaned. "And I'll go… find Buffy."

TBC


	15. Blood part 2

Title : Blood part 2/2

Author : Goldy

Email : thegoldoneb_a@hotmail.com

Disclaimer : Joss owns all, I own nothing, and I'm quite happy with it that way. 

Synopsis : More pain, funky dreams, and more pain.

Dedication : My bud Laura who's a W/T shipper, major slasher, and has been betaing for me recently. She's been amazing, supportive, and wonderful. I couldn't get this out without her.

Feedback : Yes, please.

Raiting : PG-13

She knew she was dreaming.

Yet, somehow, that didn't make things any less real. She was alone even though she knew she soon wouldn't be. She could smell sulfur and smoke, but the smell of flowers and water was pushing it away.

It was still dark but the sun was coming. If he didn't get there before then, things would go badly. Her frantic heart began pounding its shrill sound, ringing in her ears.

It was too late, too late. The sun was going to come. It was going to shine in the sky, fill the meadow with light and push away the bad smells. She breathed in the dissipating sulfur and smoke.

Too late. Too late. Too late.

But he was there, strong arms wrapped firmly around her waist. A small sigh escaped her throat as she leaned back into his strong hold. Always safe, always tight.

"This is a dream," she whispered.

His soft chuckle tickled her ear. "Then it's a good one."

She shook her head. Not wanting to think that in a few hours she would wake up and he would be gone and she would have to kill him again. The idea sent a slow, sharp pain rocketing through her heart.

"I can't do it," she protested, "Can't do it again…"

"Then don't."

She turned around to look him in the eyes. His eyes were full of love and warmth. His eyes always told her the difference between the soul and the demon. The eyes of the soul, Buffy thought dully to herself. But she also knew there was something different about his deep brown orbs.

"Angel…"

He pushed a lock of her hair tenderly behind her ear, and pressed his lips to the crown of her head. "I miss you."

She sighed, feeling herself melt against him… into him. She knew he was trying to distract her. Knew that he was trying to do what he thought was best for her. And her heart squeezed painfully, because that meant that even now… even now… she came first.

Always.

But she couldn't let him. Couldn't let him give it all up for her. 

"You're not in pain."

The barest hint of a smile touched his lips. "No," he agreed softly.

Buffy felt dizzy, so she clung to him, never wanting to let go but knowing that she must. "You don't feel them anymore. All the people you killed. The demon…" she gulped, "it must be nice."

Angel tilted her chin up, made her look him in the eye. "There's no more screaming in my head anymore, you're right. No more bloodlust, no more demon whispering hints of barely controlled evil…" he trailed off, staring intently at her.

"What?" she asked, feeling her throat go dry. Only he could look at her that way. Like nothing else in the world mattered.

"You're right, it is nice," he agreed. "But I…I won't… can't be happy until…"

"I'm with you," she finished heavily.

He nodded miserably.

"Angel," she sighed, feeling like she could say his name over and over and over again and never be satisfied. She was so terribly afraid that if she were to wake up any minute she would never see him again. Never feel his lips against hers again. Never have someone so willing to give up their life for hers.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't stronger."

She shook her head, leaning into his arms. She felt the sun come up and felt like screaming. They didn't even have enough time to say good-bye. "Never. It wasn't your fault."

She felt his lips move against her forehead and cheeks and nose and everywhere at once. She closed her eyes, let herself drown in him. It could be one perfect moment in time, forever frozen in her mind. She surrendered herself to his touch, his perfect mouth, his skilled hands. He was everywhere at once… everything to her.

His hands were in her hair, feeling touching, not wanting to let go. Titling her head back, their mouths crushed together and Buffy felt dizzy and terrified and like she was falling and didn't ever want to stop. Their tongues met, rubbed, and danced. Goosebumps exploded on her arms, and Buffy knew. 

Angel was the only one that could ever make her feel like this.

"I… love…" she gasped out between heavy mind-blowing kissing.

"Buffy…" he murmured over and over again in awe.

She could feel the sun beginning to rise in the sky. The meadow was getting brighter. Their time was ending. She knew what would happen if he stayed out in the sun. Angel knew too and he pulled away from her with regret.

"I love you," he said firmly. "Never forget that." 

She nodded. "I love you." And she knew that she couldn't take him away from all of this. Knew that she couldn't bring his soul back to the demon that would haunt his dreams forever. Knew she couldn't bring him back to her cruel, dark world only because she needed him.

"I choose you, Buffy."

She blinked back tears. She couldn't do this. Couldn't say good-bye. Couldn't watch him walk away from her for the last time. "You have to go…"

He touched her cheek gently, his eyes boring into hers. And then he turned, ready to escape the coming of the sun.

The meadow was lighting up, the sun's long fingers touching the ends of it. There was darkness in the other direction, where the woods were. Where Angel was headed and would never come back from. The rays of the sun kept coming closer, bathing flowers and plants in a blinding yellow light.

Buffy's tears streamed down her cheeks, she knew she couldn't do it. She didn't know how to say good-bye forever.

"Angel!" she called softly, but he didn't hear her and kept going towards the darkness. "ANGEL!" she called desperately, needing him to hear her, but deathly afraid of the consequences if he did.

He turned and stopped, staring a moment at the sun that came up over the meadow. Buffy felt the heat beat down on her back and then on her head. She suddenly knew what was going to happen and regretted not being strong enough to let him go.

"NO!" she screamed.

But it was too late. Angel stared up at the sky even as the sun wrought its deadly heat onto him. Buffy began running, running as fast as she possibly could, knowing all the while that it was too late and she wouldn't be able to save him.

Angel's mouth opened in surprise as the first few flames started, still he kept his eyes on her as she ran towards him. They framed her face with a look of perfect, unwavering trust and love. 'No, no, no!' her mind screamed and she willed herself to go faster. 

Angel had one second to see the sun in full view before he started burning. The pain was everywhere at once, burning and pushing, fighting for a spot on his body. He licked with jumping flames as the sun burned him to nothing. Nothing but…

Ash. Dust. Sand in the unwavering desert.

And Buffy got there just in time to feel his remains catch on the pleasant breeze and brush over her. She stared in shock at where her lover had been, a moment before crumpling to the ground, letting out a high pitched wail. She could hear very faintly in the breeze his last words. Spoken softly as he had never taken his eyes off her. They repeated ceaselessly in her head, bent on torturing her and driving her insane. The wind mocked her, whispered his words again and again.

"Always you." 

***

Still she dreamed, far into the night. It was only the nightmares that woke her up, as they always seemed to do. They were painful images of horror that the slayer had faced in the past, distorted and blurred, slowly driving her to the brink of madness. In this one, she was laying still, resting and somehow at peace. That sleep, the one that always beckoned to her, had finally stolen upon her tired and worn body. Then Angel appeared before her, his monstrous ridges protruding from his forehead. His fangs seemed to glint and blur with the dreamlike quality. Buffy struggled as best she could even as she realized it wasn't helping things any. Her dwindling attempts petered out and she lay still in a shocked silence. His cool breath whistled against her neck, and she closed her eyes waiting for the needle sharp pain of his fangs.

Gasping, Buffy wrenched herself violently out the dream. Her hand reached and touched her neck gingerly, finding her old scar there, but nothing more. She let out a pained sigh, closing her eyes as the pounding drum of her heartbeat reverberated around the room. She tried not to think about how afraid she was of that death, but how she welcomed it so.

Hearing a noise behind her, Buffy sprang around, eyes darting nervously around the room. Her arms came up as a protective shield before her. Fierce, she glared threateningly at the figure hidden in the shadows of the room.

"Whoa…" the figure said, springing up from its crouched position.

Buffy squinted, relaxing slightly. "Cordelia?" she whispered, like the name jogged some far away memory.

Cordelia stepped into her line of vision. "Uh, yeah. Who else were you expecting?"

"Angel," Buffy answered simply, continuing to survey the room with an increasing feeling of weariness.

"Not a problem."

Buffy turned back around to stare at Cordelia. What was she blabbering on about? "Hmmm?" 

Cordelia shrugged. "Wesley, he enacted some kind of barrier. I don't know what, but… no Angel, so I guess that it worked."

"It's getting dark," Buffy declared, scrambling off the bed.

"Did you not hear me?"

"I heard you," Buffy responded tersely, "but if Angel wants in badly enough, then he'll get in. And I'm not going to let that happen."

"Whatever," Cordelia muttered.

Buffy's eyes flashed with indignation. "Could you, for once, try to spare someone else's feelings?"

"What were you dreaming about?"

The question caught Buffy off guard. She expected a fight from Cordelia, was almost looking for a reason to argue with the ex-cheerleader. But the abrupt change of subject made the slayer momentarily forget her anger, and the sympathy in Cordelia's voice brought back painful images.  "It doesn't matter," she whispered. She cleared her throat, "What are you doing here?"

Cordelia's eyes flashed with anger and she paced around the room, picking up clothes and folding them with quick, jerky movements. "You told us not to go anywhere alone."

"I'm the slayer."

The ex-May Queen threw a sock against the wall. The sock hit the wall with a dull thud and fell to the floor. "You're a slayer that's going to die unless you start letting us help you."

Buffy moved towards the door. "Cordelia, this really isn't the time."

"We're worried about you!" she burst out. "Hiding up here, telling Gunn to take care of Dawn! Threatening to kill Angel! What's your deal?"

"I can't do this now!" Buffy ground out between clenched teeth. Running a hand through limp hair, she stood, looking tired and haggard, the opposite of her strong slayer persona.

Cordelia put a gentle hand on her arm. "You're a girl first, the slayer second. You can't fight Angel like this."

Shrugging the hand off, Buffy staggered to the door. "If I can't, then who can?"

Cordelia listened to the silence of Buffy and Angel's room long after the slayer had left. The warning about not being anywhere alone momentarily flashed in her head, but she ignored it. It was good to hear the quiet, good to be alone with her thoughts.

But the ghosts in this room, Buffy and Angel's, seemed to haunt her. Cordelia's heart filled with sympathy for Buffy like it never had before and didn't think it ever could. Why couldn't the two most feared warriors on the planet just be regular humans?

***

Wesley was sitting at the kitchen table, busily sketching down notes on a scrap piece of paper even as his other hand busily flipped through a book. A pencil was hanging out of one side of his mouth and he nervously chewed on the eraser. Totally caught up in his work, he didn't notice when Buffy stole behind him.

'"Darling, that depends on you?'"

Wesley jumped about five feet in the air. "Good lord, Buffy. I didn't know you were there."

She frowned. "What does that mean?"

Wesley glanced down at his notes. He was busily transcribing what Angel had told him about his dream. "It's what Darla told him," Wesley answered, voice slightly muffled by the pencil sticking out of his mouth.

Buffy snatched the pencil out of his mouth and fiddled with it between anxious hands. "Darla told him that?"  
  


That was right… Angel had refused to tell her about his dream. "In a dream Angel had the night before you…" he trailed off uncertainly.

"You can say crazy, Wes. It's okay."

He stared at her for a beat, considering the preposition. "Crazy," he said gently, then cleared his throat. "Angel had a dream that warned him to keep you safe."

"So he picked a fight with me instead?"

Wesley frowned. "I don't believe that was his intention, Buffy."

She sighed. "I know, you're right. What was in the dream?"

"A warning…" his voice trailed off, as he busily looked at his notes again. "But I believe that it was a warning for himself, not for you."

"They weren't trying to tell him that Ethan was going to hit me with the wacky?"

"It's possible, but Darla kept insisting that getting farther away from you depended on him. 'Be there when it comes…'" Wesley quoted, '"the slight screaming of a baby was his only response…'"

"It sounds like an awful load of gibberish," Buffy muttered.

Wesley shook his head. "Angel kept hearing a thudding noise, a dripping if you will, during this dream sequence. Apparently, he woke up to the noise. Again, when you were put in danger, the pipes started leaking and dripped down on the front desk."

Buffy's eyes flashed with recognition. "That's what all that water is in the lobby…" she shook her head, thinking. "I heard the noise, too. After the spell was put on me, I heard this noise…"

"_Drip_

_Drip_

_Drip_"

Wesley and Buffy looked up sharply at the now conscious Ethan Rayne who was staring at them in concentration. "But the question is, what does it mean?" he asked vaguely.

"I really hit you hard, didn't I?" 

"No, he's right, Buffy," Wesley fumbled, as he busily began searching through another book that read, 'Portents and Signs'. "If both you and Angel experienced the noise then it does indeed stand for something."

"Blood." Ethan answered without missing a beat.

Wesley looked up. Shutting the book, he stood up and began pacing. "Of course!" he declared, "blood… blood! Why didn't I see it before?"

"Cause it's kind of disturbing?" Buffy offered. 

Wesley turned and glared at Ethan. "Why didn't you tell us this before?" 

"Well, none of you bothered to ask," the spellcaster complained. "I was quite willing to share information. I believe I even offered to help bind Angel's soul. But, no, I got a fist in the face instead."

"You'll get another one unless you shut up," Buffy muttered irritably.

"Oh, boo hoo, I'm shaking."

Buffy shot him a glare. "I hope your head isn't hurting you too much, Ethan," she said sweetly.

"Do you want me to help your boy or not?"

"If everyone could be quiet for one minute!"

Buffy and Ethan glanced boredly at Wesley. "What?" they both demanded simultaneously.

"If blood is the key," Wesley thought aloud, pulling off his glasses and staring suspiciously at Ethan, "then you've known about all of this all along."

Buffy groaned, hitting her forehead with her hand. "Why, yes! It's all so SIMPLE! Obviously, blood is the key. Then all we need to do is get Angel to feed from something. I see it now."

"Buffy, please…"

"Wesley," she hissed, "last time blood was the key I DIED. I don't care what the fuck Rayne says. I'm not wasting anymore time." Grabbing a stake, she turned from the room. "I'm not going to stand by and read books while Angel's out there killing people." Her voice became sadder, softer, "I don't want him to have to come back to the pain of what he's done."

And then she was gone.

Ethan Rayne whistled. "That one carries the weight of the world on her shoulders."

***

Buffy stalked angrily through the streets of LA. Her stake thumped against her side, her other hand clenched and unclenched spasmodically. She didn't know where she was going, but knew she would get there. Angel was a part of her, so embedded in her heart and soul that she was a fool to have ever thought she could get rid of him.

Angelus was there, too. He was always a part of her, always laughing at her when he wasn't loving her, threatening to kill her when he wasn't worshipping her. But she knew him so well, her body knew the both of them. And, eventually, if she kept walking she would find him. She would find him and they would fight.

And she would kill him.

He teeth clenched together. It didn't matter how much it hurt. Didn't matter that she would be ending all the hopes and dreams that she had ever dared carry close to her heart.

The others, they didn't understand. They thought she was going crazy, that she hadn't properly recovered from the spell that Ethan had cast upon her. But they also didn't know the true realities of the pain that Angel could inflict. They didn't have an inkling of comprehension of what Angel would go through if they restored his soul.

 Buffy owed it to Jenny Calendar, owed it to Fred, owed it to herself, and most importantly to Angel. She had promised to kill him if he ever went evil again, and she was going to follow her promise.

Because she loved him.

***

"We have a slight problem," Wesley informed the group gathered around him.

Cordelia's eyes widened. "What happened?"

"Where's Buffy?" Dawn demanded.

Gunn put a comforting arm on Dawn's shoulder. "I'm sure Buffy's fine. She probably only went to the bathroom or something." Gunn glanced wearily at Wesley.  "Right?"

Wesley cleared his throat. Gulped.

Ethan Rayne let out a chuckle. "She took off!" he declared quite happily.

Dawn shut her eyes. "Oh no…" she moaned. Resting her forehead on her arm, she resisted the urge to start crying, "I can't do this again."

Gunn and Cordelia exchanged helpless looks. Wesley glared menacingly at Ethan.

Dawn felt sick. "Wesley, please, we have to do something!" She looked up, eyes red and swollen, lost like only a child's could be. "I can't… I can't lose her again."

"I can't believe this," Cordelia muttered. "I CAN'T believe this!"

"I can!" Ethan declared gleefully from his spot tied to the refrigerator. 

"That's it…" Gunn snapped, "I'm gagging him."

"Please," Wesley concurred.

"Whoa," Ethan protested, "I'm the one who holds the key to the curse after all."

"It doesn't matter!" Cordy whimpered, angrily. "Buffy's gone to kill him."

"They'll kill each other," Dawn whispered in horror under her breath.

Wesley shook his head. "I believe I may have found something."

"Actually, he really didn't." Ethan's snarky British tone still held a faint note of amusement. Everyone tried their best to ignore him. 

"What is it?" Gunn asked.

"Blood."

"Blood?" Dawn and Cordelia cried simultaneously. 

"Haven't you people figured it out already?" Ethan demanded. "Blood. It's the key to everything. Blood IS life. It can take it, give it. Blood is everything." Ethan stared at Dawn, "Why do you think Buffy was able to close the rift between the worlds?"

"Buffy's blood!" Wesley declared, jumping up from his seat and knocking his notes to the ground. 

Ethan's chains flickered and then disappeared. "Now we're getting somewhere." 

TBC


	16. Even Death 15

Title: Even Death 15

Author: Goldy

Email: thegoldoneb_a@hotmail.com

Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah. All belongs to Mutant Enemies. Blah, blah, blah. Don't sue.

A/N: I ran out of title ideas. So just going with the proverbial title of the series, plus the number.

Dedication: To Laura for being such a wonderful beta reader. I can't do it without you, hon! *HUGS*

The night seemed to get darker around her. Buffy sometimes thought that wherever she walked, the air would get thicker and blacker. Almost like it formed a perpetual blanket against her, a blanket that eventually would choke and squeeze her in its painful wrath.

She shivered because she knew she was getting closer. She could feel him, feel *his* darkness. At the best of times, Angel's soul barely managed to outshine the evil that lived inside him. But that soul was gone and a pure monster was left in its place.

A monster that knew Buffy better than she knew her own self. A monster that she could sense, one that she could feel as intimately as if it were her own.

Love truly was a funny thing.

She kept walking through the dark haze that turned blacker around her. The slayer reveled in it, the warrior that was thousands of years old belonged to the darkness. Like Angel, Buffy had something dark and strong living inside her own skin that she sometimes didn't know how to control.

But this time it led her towards her enemy. Towards her doom and her salvation. Towards the end and the beginning.

It led and Buffy followed. 

***

The AI team stared at the newly freed Ethan Rayne in shock. "Wha… what?" Cordelia stuttered.

Dawn stuck out a shaky finger. "I think he just broke free of the chains."

"Well, obviously!" Cordelia said, "But HOW?"

Ethan looked rather smug. "I can't believe this is the crew that continues to save the world from unspeakable demons." 

"You… you were playing us the whole time…" Wesley murmured, beginning to catch on. 

"Well, actually…" Ethan paused and gave the others a moment to look hopeful. "Quite right, had you fooled all along. You're the most *gullible* bunch I have ever met."

Gunn scowled darkly. "What the hell are you playing at here?"

Ethan Rayne smirked. "I was called by the Powers, if you can believe that."

"Forgive me if I don't," Cordelia said dryly.

"Apparently, a dark power, Angel, was about to rise and someone with enough power had to come and stop it." Ethan grinned, "That would be me."

"You put that spell on Buffy!" Dawn spat accusingly.

"One does have to have a bit of fun, doesn't he?"

"I hate you!" Cordelia complained.

"Believe me, feeling is quite mutual."

Wesley shook himself as if trying to get out of the shocked stupor he'd fallen into. "So you can return Angel's soul to his body?"

"Yes."

"Permanently?"

"Yes."

"What's the catch?"

"Blood."

Frustrated, Wesley grabbed hold of one of the chairs and threw it against the wall. The noise seemed to echo through the hotel and bang off the walls of the kitchen, leaving a shocked impenetrable silence in its wake.

"Someone needs to relax," Ethan taunted, breaking the precarious silence.

Wesley let out a deep breath. "What do you mean by blood?" he asked harshly.

"In order for the spell to work completely, Angel most (must) drink the blood of a human. One that he'll be bound to for all eternity, so that his soul cannot pass through his body."

"Buffy…" Dawn whispered.

Ethan Rayne nodded. "She's the only one strong enough."

"The only one that loves him enough," Wesley finished.

***

 Buffy cocked her head, standing still and straight. She was poised as the perfect warrior, her body tightly strung to be the ultimate instrument of death. Her heart began to pound, her blood rushed, and the sweet taste of victory and death tinged her tongue.

She'd found him.

She examined the building. Abandoned(,) she noted, but large. Angelus liked to live in style. He could never stay underground in the sewers. Angelus was cocky, he wanted to be somewhere where he knew she would find him.

He knew she was there. Buffy was sure of it. He was as much, if not more, attuned to her as she was to him. He knew she was there. He could feel the pumping of her heart and the adrenaline of the kill. He could feel her fear… and her excitement.

She paced in front of the building, feeling her old doubts come surging up. It was crazy. She couldn't just go in there and kill him. She should go back to the others and they would come up with a reasonable plan. 

An image of Angel's eyes flashed before her eyes. His deep brown orbs looked deep in her eyes, but they were those of her dream and she remembered with clarity the peace she'd seen in them. It was ironic, she thought. She couldn't live without him and, yet, she couldn't bring him back from the only peace that he'd ever known.

 "Buff, I was wondering when you'd come."

Buffy spun around, her eyes falling on her lover and her nemesis, standing in the doorway. His large frame seemed to envelope the whole entrance, and his stance was relaxed as he leaned against the doorjamb. 

"Well, I'd hate to disappoint," Buffy quipped, feeling her legs go weak. Could she really go through with this? Really kill the only person she'd ever loved for the second time?

He smiled. "Smell that night air," he said conversationally, "so sweet, like perfume almost." 

"Really? I've heard it referred to as smog, myself."

Angelus chuckled. "Still pretending to be strong when put up against impossible odds. I like that in a woman."

Buffy's head spun and she brought up the stake. "Nothing you say matters, you're not Angel."

"Aren't I?" Angel moved from the doorway, mentioned for her to come in. "I'm part of what makes him. As much as it pains you to admit it, love, I'm part of your boyfriend. The part that you cringe from, yet attracts you."

Buffy shivered, walking up the abandoned building's steps and entering it behind Angel. She could do it now, stick a stake into his back while he was turned. But she didn't. He knew she couldn't, and he used it, exploited it. "And you know so much about love," Buffy snapped uneasily.

Angel merely smiled, stepping gingerly over the corpse of a police officer. "I really hate cops, don't you?"

"I don't kill them," Buffy whispered, glancing around.

Angelus followed her gaze. "It isn't much, I know. But one must make due. Adequate protection from the sun, plenty of dead bodies around, and a nice floor to sleep on."

Buffy looked at the floor and muffled a gasp when she saw Fred lying there. Naked. "Oh no…"

Angel shook his head. "Dead and yet..."

"You turned her," Buffy whispered, cursing herself for not realizing it earlier. For not checking when she had the chance. For letting Angelus get the best of her.

"You're slipping a little in your old age, lover."

She stalked around the two vampires, noticing that Angel was in front of her escape. She felt her throat squeeze and was suddenly sure that she was going to die. She almost welcomed it. Almost wanted to take death into her arms, embrace it, hide in it forever. 

But her will to live… it still beat in her chest, reminding her of who she was and what her duty to the world was.

She hefted her chin, brought up her stake. "Don't get cocky, Angel." 

He licked his lips, glanced down at the naked vampire on the floor. "I think I have more than enough reason to, love." 

Fred grinned happily, running a fingernail between the slope of her breasts and letting out a low croon. "According to the laws of math, you're outnumbered two to one."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Would you put some clothes on?" 

Fred stood, letting her vampire ridges protrude on her forehead. "But I feel so free…"

Angel put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I think we're making her feel uncomfortable."

Buffy quirked an eyebrow. "Way past that, hun. Besides, we both know you're capable of way more kinkier things. I was just thinking it'd be more pleasant when we all fight," Buffy glanced at Fred, "some fabric may help stop a stake that I'll inevitably shove through your heart."

Fred scowled, letting out a low growl. "You're so mean, Slayer. Don't you remember all the times we spent together? All the times that we laughed together?"

Buffy thought for a moment. "Mostly, I'm just remembering how much nicer human you was."

Angelus clucked his tongue. "Buff, you'll offend her."

"Yes, because it would be so rude to offend the vampire that wants me dead." She chuckled to herself, "Besides, we all know the *real* reason that Fred has it out for me so bad." Buffy circled the two wearily, busily trying to come up with some sort of a plan in her head. "Angelus tends to be rather dismissive of brunettes." She cocked her head, looked him dead in the eye, "Sometimes obsesses over the blonde ones." 

Fred gave Angel a quick glance. He shrugged. "What can I say?"

Fred's momentary distraction was all Buffy needed, with a fierce battle cry she flipped her stake towards the brunette's unbeating heart. She hit a bull's eye. Her former friend exploded into a cloud of dust, shooting Angel one last betrayed look before crumpling down to the earth. Buffy felt guilt tear its way into her throat. She knew she would never tell the others—she would have to bear the pain of killing Fred on her own. 

She raised a single eyebrow in Angel's direction, "These are more my odds."

Angelus looked vaguely amused. "Interesting, I must admit. I really thought that losing me to the dark side would cripple that shining will to live once and for all."

"What can I say? I'm a fighter."

"You wouldn't be my girl if you weren't."

The intimate phrase caught her off guard and she felt her resolve weakening. "I'm not your girl," she tried declaring mightily, but the words sounded forced. It was a lie, Angel… Angelus… she would always be his. He would always know her better than she knew herself.

"How do you feel about eternal life?" he asked conversationally. 

She frowned, pretending to mull it over. "In a word? No."

"Don't tell me you've never thought about it," he regarded her seriously. "Don't lie. I can tell."

She winced. Jerk. Stupid, manipulating, bastard that knew her so well. "I have thought about it. Romantic dreams, our souls finding each other in the ethereal, our demons hunting together." She folded her arms over her chest, "But you know as well as I do that the slayer in me could never let that happen. I could never allow myself to willingly be turned. And, you should also know, that trying to change my mind is useless."

He blinked. "Well then… there's only one thing left to do."

"Fight to the death?" she questioned cheerfully. 

Angel smiled. "You always knew me so well." And he lunged at her.

***

"What the hell are you doing?" Gunn demanded, watching uneasily as Rayne set things up in a corner of the Hyperion. He could smell the skink of herbs, see bright circle things being placed about, and funny chalk symbols on the floor. All of it was succeeding in making him feel *very* nervous. The spellcaster ignored him. Gunn narrowed his eyes and looked at Wesley, "What the hell is he doing?"

"Setting up a spell to return Angel's soul, I believe," the ex-watcher answered slowly after thinking it over a minute.

"I got that far, British," Gunn said, "I want to know what the hell he's doing!" 

"Actually," Ethan responded, amusement in his voice, "I'm not returning Angel's soul to him."

Cordelia's mouth dropped. "I knew it!" she hissed, "I knew this was a mistake. It's all Buffy's fault."

Ethan Rayne stopped his furious motions and glared at the ex-May Queen. "Do you ever think of anyone but yourself?"

Cordelia thought for a minute and shrugged. "Not really, no." 

Rayne nodded and went back to work, the others watched him curiously in silence. "Then what are you doing?" Cordelia asked.

"I'm going to bind his soul to Buffy's."

"Original," she commented.

Ethan muttered something under his breath in another language. "Not in the strictest sense. Idea has been used many times before, but it works."

"Fascinating," Wesley observed. "Binding Angel's soul to Buffy's… that will keep it firmly in place, no?"

"As long as Buffy has hers," Ethan responded, slightly annoyed this time. "Would you all please stop standing around like a bunch of gibbering idiots?" Ethan handed a piece of chalk to Gunn.

"What am I s'possed to do with this?" the black man questioned skeptically.

"I was hoping you'd paint me a pretty, little picture," Ethan sneered. "Figure it out!"

Wesley took the chalk from him and started drawing a wide circle on the floor as Gunn watched on with wide eyes. "Hey… how do you know all this?"

"I was getting close to a solution," Wesley muttered, miffed.

Gunn raised his eyebrows, shrugging. "Whatever."

Ethan Rayne snorted. "You were nowhere near a solution. Couldn't even figure out the blood part without my help."

Cordelia, who had been watching the thing with fairly bored eyes, suddenly perked up, "Ewww… why does that have to be a part of this ritual?"

 "Buffy's blood," Dawn whispered, appearing behind her. Cordelia jumped and whirled around.

"Don't do that!"

Dawn barely looked at her. "Buffy's blood, right?"

Wesley stopped his drawing, and lay sad eyes on the slayer's younger sister. "Yes."

The key frowned. "But Buffy doesn't know… how… how will this work?"

"We complete the spell before Angel kills her," Ethan answered.

Dawn's eyes widened. "Angelus will drink from her…"

"And his soul will be returned," Gunn finished.

Ethan Rayne clapped his hands. "You're a sorry bunch… but give or take a few anvils you figure things out."

Wesley glared at him. "We don't have a lot of time. I'm warning you Rayne, if either of them die… you'll follow."

The spellcaster nodded. "Yes, well, we should get started then, eh?"

"What… what exactly do you want me to do?" Wesley couldn't believe that he was taking orders from this… amateur. Couldn't believe that he was actually entrusting him to return Angel's soul, actually.

Rayne handed a stinky herb  to Wesley and another to Cordelia. The May Queen perked up. "Hey! I remember this! We just wave these around you while you sit in this circle and do that little incantation thing in that strange language."

"How are you still alive?" Gunn demanded. 

Rayne glared at him. "I'll have to ask those of you who aren't taking part in the ritual to leave the room." He gave a more sympathetic gaze over to Dawn, "Please."

Dawn nodded, gripping Gunn's elbow and hauling him out of the way. 

"I'm not leaving them alone with that… deceptionist!" he protested pathetically to the slayer's younger sister.

"It'll be okay," she whispered soothingly, even as she continued to haul him out of the way. 

"You don't know…." The rest of his words cut off as he disappeared from the lobby. 

Cordelia looked after him, chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully. "How do we know that this isn't some scheme to kill us?"

"You don't," Rayne answered, settling down on the floor. He yawned, stretching his muscles and cracking his knuckles rather loudly. "Ready to begin?"

Wesley looked at him in distrust. "If I hadn't exhausted all other means to do this…"

Rayne snorted. "Right then, shall I get on with it?"

Sighing, Wesley grabbed one of the herbs and began circling Ethan with it. Cordelia gave him an uneasy look but followed his lead, waving the bundle around as it began to smoke lightly at the tip.

Rayne closed his eyes, small beads of sweat forming on his forehead. His hands shook slightly with his effort, his eyes scrunched tightly together. He started chanting, softly at first, then louder as he concentrated more deeply, "_That which was taken, returned now and forever be, bound to the one he loves, heart, mind, body and soul… return now what was taken, bound to the one he loves, heart, mind, body, and soul, return now…"_

 The light was sucked out of the room, loud booms cracked the air, like lightning being let off in the hotel. The sky seemed to change, the clouds moving at hundreds of miles an hour. Ethan Rayne let out a large hiss of air and his voice rose in volume, _"Return now forever, bound to mind, body, heart, and soul… return forever… RETURN FOREVER HEART, MIND, BODY, AND SOUL!"_

The ground shook beneath them, Cordelia and Wesley were momentarily thrown off balance. The light flickered, on, and off, on and off, creating grotesque shadows upon the walls. Rayne shook harder with the effort, sweat streaming down his face, soaking the light t-shirt on his back.

"_Return the soul that was taken from him. Bind it to whom he loves best, mind, heart, body and soul… FOREVER"_

As abruptly as it started, the scene changed. The electricity snapped back on, the sky moved back into its place, and the world returned to normal. Ethan Rayne stood jerkily up, looking at Cordy and Wes with a weary expression.

"Let's see if the slayer's all she's cracked up to be," he muttered, collapsing at their feet.

***

Buffy heard the sharp, distinct crack of thunder off in the distance. The ground rumbled in agreement, throwing the two foes momentarily off balance. Angel fell to the ground, clutching his head and letting out a sharp moan.

Buffy sucked in a breath, feeling the first tingles of hope shoot through her fingertips. She bent down, stake held as a shield in front of her. "Angel?" she whispered. Her mind tantalized her with the prospect that the others may have done something…

She got no answer.

Was he unconscious? She blinked back tears, tried to keep her hands from shaking. "Angel… are you…" she gulped, let out a tiny, shrill laugh, "evil?"

He stirred, letting out a painful gasp, clutching where his chest over his dead heart. He let out a soft, slow chuckle. "They failed…." Sputtering, he stood up, glaring at Buffy who was staring at him with wide eyes. "I can feel soul all over me," he spat in disgust, "trying to claw its way in." His faced morphed, vampire eyes piercing her frightened gaze. He advanced. "Filthy goodness of *its* light… begging me not to hurt you."

Buffy stumbled backwards. He'd changed. Even for Angelus, he was different. Less sane, somehow, like the idea of his soul surrounding him had driven him to the brink of madness.  "They tried returning your soul…"

Angel let out a howl, slamming his fist into the wall. He pulled it out broken and bleeding. His lips curled up into a feral snarl as he continued to advance on her with a predator's gaze. "It FAILED, lover. And you're going to pay." He sneered, bringing his bleeding hand to his mouth and licking tenderly at the wound with his fangs. "Your boy never bothered to tell you how fond I am of torture… how I know just how much a person can endure while still conscious."

Buffy banged against a wall, and leaned back, panting heavily. "You'll have to kill me first." 

He placed his palms against the wall on either side of her, pressing his hard body against her. He lowered his head, almost tenderly, nuzzling the side of her neck. "You smell good," he sighed. He focused on her scar, lapping at her skin softly with his tongue.

She closed her eyes, willed her body to stop trembling. "Get off me," she commanded hoarsely. He ignored her, scraping his fang along the side of her neck. She let out an involuntary moan at the sensation. She could let him do it, kill her. It would all be over. He smelled like Angel, he felt like Angel, all she would have to do… keep her eyes closed… let him drink her blood.

Then it would be over.

She heard him in her head at that thought, her real Angel, he reminded her savagely that she promised to hold on to life. With a fierce battle cry, Buffy used both her strong, slayer arms to propel Angelus backwards.

He flew across the room, banging his elbow on the stone floor as he came down, crashing into the far wall and creating a sharp, jagged crack in the wooden wall. Buffy used his momentary immobilization to look around for a weapon. Her quick instincts took stock of the dead police officer lying on the floor.

Angel was back up, rushing at her. "Why won't you give up???" he roared.

She dove towards the dead officer, tearing off his belt and grabbing the gun. Her first two shots missed her mark, but the next on hit him straight in the stomach. Angel fell back, clutching his gut in pain.

"Bullets don't kill vampires," he rasped, holding a hand over his bleeding abdomen.

Buffy stood up, holding the revolver mightily in her hand. She fired another shot, aimed to the middle of his chest. She heard a crunch, knew that she'd broken something. "Yeah?" she asked with a cock of her head, "I've heard they can hurt like hell, though."

She came towards him and fired another in his thigh. Angel stumbled, his left leg not being able to support him. She squeezed the trigger again, aimed at his heart… 

The gun clicked, but the bullet didn't come. Hissing she threw it to the ground, reaching into her back pocket for a stake. Before she got there, Angel appeared, he grabbed her wrist, spun it around. Buffy heard a quick snap in the air followed by a shooting pain all the way down to her elbow.

She spun out of his grip, her arm hanging uselessly at her side. They stared at each other for a beat. He was bleeding heavily, she noticed, but he was so angry that the bullet wounds seemed to slow him down less with each passing second. Meanwhile… her head began to pound in tune with the throb in her right arm. 

She took in a deep breath. And they lunged at each other. The fight began, for real this time. Exchanging blows, kicks, dodges, they danced around each other so fast that they were a blur. They knew the other's every move, every block, every punch. They'd fought together, with each other, more times than they could ever count. They'd lived together, slept in the same bed together, been together for more than a year.

It didn't matter that Angel was gone, that the monster wearing his face was the very epitome of all that Buffy hated and despised. It didn't matter that they were both injured. Their fight was vicious, two foes that knew each other better than anything. To an onlooker it would look like a bitter stalemate where neither could win. It looked like they were going to kill each other, that as soon as one was down the other would follow. It looked like an impossible feat.

It came down to the fact that she could never really give it her all… and the only thing that he could hear through his red haze of anger was the pumping of her blood.

Angel backhanded her across the face. Her lip split, blood flying out of the corner of her mouth and landing in his face. He roared when he sniffed it, following his punch through with a quick kick. Gasping, Buffy lay on her back, and watched as he dove at her. She struggled to get out of the way, but he grabbed her wrist and twisted, immobilizing her in a fit of pain. Buffy hissed, eyes filling with tears, but she refused to scream, refused to give him that pleasure.

He licked his lips, keeping one hand on her broken wrist and used only two fingers of the other to turn her neck. She stopped struggling, feeling her body give up her weak fight. She felt anger course through her veins, she'd worked this hard, given everything up to fight him…only to meet her end in this way.

His pressure on her wrist tightened and Buffy saw black spots in front of her eyes. Angel saw and loosened his grip. "Now don't pass out on me now," he murmured. "It'll all be over in a moment."

Her mouth opened into a silent scream as his fangs broke into her skin. She groaned in pain and felt him sink into her flesh, right over the scar he had given her three years ago. He began to drink… big mouthfuls of her blood… like it was the elixir of life.

It was then the real pain started. It seemed to consume her all at once, every fiber of her cells on fire, like everything inside her was bursting and wanted to break free. She let out a hoarse scream, feeling her body start to convulse. Through her pained haze she didn't hear Angel's own screams, didn't seem him fall to the floor next to her with his arms wrapped tightly across his chest.

Then it stopped. She lay on the floor, sweating, gasping for air. Her hand flew to her throat, she felt the wound, brought her fingers to the front of her face. She saw deep red blood on them… but she was still alive. Something else had caused the pain… something more… she turned her head. She let out a tiny gasp of surprise, there was Angel laying next to her, face bathed in the same hard sweat as her own.

"What… what happened?" he looked her over in concern, "What's going on?" his voice began to tremble, like he knew the answer but didn't want to face it. "Why are you bleeding?"  Angel struggled to raise himself up on one arm and touched the broken skin on her neck gently, drew a ragged breath. "Oh… god… Buffy… what did I do?"

She could do nothing but stare at him with wide eyes, her mind too numb with shock to make a reply. "Angel… Angel…" she trailed off, throat clogging painfully. She gave him one last look… and burst into tears.

She heard him moan softly, knew that the memories were beginning to come back to him. Through her hazy vision she saw him begin to tremble, fists clenching and unclenching as the horrible memories of the past 48 hours caught up to him. His head hit the stone floor with a dull, his hands presses themselves to his ears. "No… no… no…" he mumbled incessantly.

She sniffled, moving closer to him. "Angel…" she whispered brokenly, reaching out to touch his arm lightly.

He flinched moving away from her, he raised his head and stood up, looking out at the room with bloodshot eyes. He saw her weak and trembling on the floor… turned his head and saw her stake lying abandoned a few feet away. Her gaze flew to it the same time his did, but he lunged and she was too weak to stop him. He grabbed it, aiming for his heart, when she screamed. Scrambling she dove for his leg, wrapping her good arm around it with all her might.

"Don't leave me!" Buffy screamed. "You have no right to do this to me and leave me!"

He paused, looked down at her, blinked back tears. "Buffy… what I just did to you… to Fred…" he glanced at the stake. "I can't take it… I can't do it."

"I don't CARE!" she yelped, feeling her arm weaken around his lower leg. "You can't leave me! You promised! I just got you back!" The tears flew freely down her face, "Angel, please, don't do this to me… don't kill me again…"

She heard him drop the stake, saw his legs give way. Her breath came out in hard, relieved gasps, when she saw him stumble to the ground. They stared at each other, trembling, hurting, and waiting. With a pained cry she reached for him, feeling his arms come around her. She crushed herself against him and they toppled over, holding on for dear life.

And they cried.

End of Part 15 


	17. Recovery

Title: Recovery

Author: Goldy

Email: thegoldoneb_a@hotmail.com

Disclaimer: Joss, you bastard. You own them and make them say weird things to other people and come up with cookie dough metaphors that don't mean s***.

A/N: Nearing the end here. This is the second to last in the entire series. I've actually finished the next part and will hopefully have it out by next week. 

Dedication: To Laura! For being the bestest beta ever! And for all the TWoP quotes. Go read Salix Ardens wonderful W/T fanfiction! 

Rating: R for my first *ahem* scene. Well, you know.

Hours later they still hadn't moved. They couldn't, the sun had come up, trapping Angel there until after sunset. Buffy didn't think that they could have moved, though… even if they had wanted.

She lay spooned against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her small waist. Their silence was broken only by small, hushed voices when they needed to say something, a cry, or a teeth bumping kiss. 

"I don't understand what happened," Angel finally admitted out loud.

Buffy jumped, surprised at hearing his voice. She shook her head, held his hand tightly. "It doesn't matter how… you came back to me…" she trailed off, remembering her dream. Remembering how she had vowed not to rip Angel away from the only peace he'd every known. He shifted, sitting up, Buffy leaned back against him, closing her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

She felt him stiffen, felt his hold around her waist loosen. "For what?" he asked, voice hard as steel. 

"Angel…"

"I tried to kill Dawn," he burst out angrily, "I *did* kill Fred…." His anguished eyes drifted down her throat, took note of her wrist lying uselessly at her side. It was swollen, purple, bruised, and she hadn't once complained about the pain it must be causing her. "I hurt you… drank from you…"  
 

"I know!" she cried, "and you have to live with that! God, Angel… I'm so sorry that you have to live with that."

He sighed, resting his head against her shoulder. He breathed her in… hating himself for the things he'd done, yet knowing that she was more vulnerable than ever. And that, for some reason, she still needed him. She reached up with her good hand, gently trailing her fingertips through his hair. "I was so afraid that I'd never see you again…" she said softly. "I thought I could do it, I thought I could kill you, but I can't… I can't…"

He planted a kiss to her shoulder, feeling a large lump rise in his throat. "We don't know, Buffy. We don't know if this is permanent, if I'm going to lose my soul at any moment…"

"The others did something… Angelus said he felt his soul on him, said that they failed. I felt something go through me, too," she added.

He nodded, remembering the way his body had started convulsing in pain as soon as her blood has began to rush down his throat. "We'll figure it out later…" he stopped as he saw her wince and glance quickly down to her arm. He followed her gaze, and she looked quickly away, unwilling to make him feel more guilty. "Let me," he commanded. 

She looked backwards at him quickly before giving a quick nod. Pulling slightly away from her, Angel looked down at his tattered and blood spattered shirt before figuring that it would have to do. Yanking it off his shirt off his  head, he tore it in half and came around so he was facing her. Aware that her eyes were fastened on his face, he picked up her limp hand, wrapping the makeshift bandage around it. 

She let out a little breath and gave a little smile. "That feels better, thanks."

"Did you lose a lot of blood?" he asked tersely, feeling fresh pangs of guilt for not helping her with her injuries sooner.

She ignored his question, and trailed his bare stomach with her fingers. Her eyes were wide, looking at his bullet hole with fear and apology. "Does it… hurt?"

He covered her hand with his own, "A little… I heal fast. Especially after drink--" he stopped, ashamed suddenly at what he had been about to say.

She ignored him. "I'm sorry for shooting you."

His smile was tight. "Believe me when I say you don't have to be the person apologizing here."

She cocked her head, "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Assume that everything's your own fault," she replied. "You're not Angelus."

Buffy watched the emotions play across his face, bitterness, anger, resentment…. He stood up suddenly, turning his back on her. "You don't understand." His voice was quiet, tight… and like the blades of a hundred knives cutting into her heart.

She stared at the floor, "Don't understand what?" she mumbled.

He paced restlessly. "Never mind."

Buffy let out a harsh sigh. "WHAT?" she demanded. "Angel, if we're going to get through this you better damn well learn how to talk to me." She saw him freeze, standing rigidly on the other side of the room. She felt a lump rise in her throat, wishing that he was still holding her. She continued in a gentler tone, "I love you, Angel… more than anything. I need you to talk to me. I need you not to drive yourself crazy."

"Everything he did, I'm capable of," Angel turned back around so that he was looking her up and down. "Angelus *is* me. Nothing he did is something I haven't thought about. Hurting you, torturing and killing my friends…" he put a hand over his heart, "it's all there. Every thought, every desire… it's part of me."

"I know," Buffy answered, stumbling up so that she could stand level with him. "I know… he's part of you. You couldn't be what you are without the demon."

He stared at her, unflinching, unblinking, the cold, hard stare of Angelus. "And you still claim to love me."

She felt like crying with frustration. So long they'd been together, suffered together, and he was still hung up on the fact that she didn't know what she was getting into. "I don't 'claim' to love you," she snapped, " but maybe if you think that's all I feel about you we shouldn't be having this conversation."

Angel sighed, his strong, commanding persona fading. He closed his eyes, looking old and haggard. "That's not what I meant."

"Why can't you just accept that part of what makes you the man I love so much *is* the demon? Angel, your whole being is centralized around the fact that you are trying to make amends for what *he* did," she cried angrily. She stared at the ground, feeling the anger dissipate and be filled with a longing relief, "You have no idea what it felt like to know that I had let Angelus free again, that the only person that could understand was out trying to kill me. You have no idea what it felt like having you ripped suddenly away after all we've been through this year. And you have no idea what it's like to get you back and watch you turn away from me, watch you pick a fight with me over on the other side of the room." She lifted her head, glared at him, "So don't even *DARE* tell me that I can't really love you."

Angel's mouth straightened into a tight line, but he walked over to her, resting his large hands on her small shoulders. "You should sit," he whispered gently, "you're hurt."

She stared open mouthed at him, not sure whether she wanted to laugh, cry, or scream. Instead she fell against him, pressing her cheek against his chest. "I hate you," she pouted.

He touched her soft hair, pulled her against him. "I'm really back, Buffy." 

She sniffled, wrapping her arms tightly around him. "I was so scared," she said, voice cracking more with every word.

"I know," he soothed, moving his hands comfortingly down her back. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I can't lose you again."

It was ironic, he thought, how he had been saying the very same words to her a couple of days ago. "You won't."

Buffy looked up into his eyes, let out a deep breath. "You are different…" 

He wiped a tear away from her cheek with his thumb. "Hmmm?"

"Your eyes… you're always filled with warmth, tenderness. You can look at me like I'm the most important thing in the world, like nothing else matters. Angelus is always calculating, cocky… and he looks at me like his greatest desire is to hurt me."

"Buffy…" he trailed off, at a loss for words. Her arms traveled up his back, cupped his face in her hands. Pulling him down, she made him kiss her, tried to tell him all the emotions she couldn't voice aloud. 

When they pulled away, she knew she was crying again. She could feel her heart tight in her chest, the voice in her head that still couldn't believe it… the cantbetruecantreallybehere she heard over and over again. She pressed herself against him, trembled and relaxed only when she could feel him all around her. He smelled like sweat and the underlying hint of blood, but it was wonderful and familiar. 

"I'm so sorry," he whispered in her ear. "I'm so sorry." 

"I didn't mean to!" she finally wailed. "I brought Angelus back and I let him kill Fred and hurt Dawn… and… and…" her voice trailed of in a sniffle. She pressed her face against his naked chest, let him rock her and shush her.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, smoothed her rumpled hair and lifted her face. Her eyes were red and swollen and her cheeks were white from the loss of blood. Still, she was beautiful and almost painfully innocent despite all that she'd been forced to go through in her hard, short life. He smiled tenderly, "Never blame yourself for being able to have the power of giving someone the gift of perfect happiness."

She leaned into the palm of his hand, closed her eyes. "Angelus said…"  
  


"Angelus was trying to upset you," Angel cut in forcefully. "He wanted you off your guard enough so he could turn you."

She opened her eyes, "He almost succeeded."

Angel looked down, "I'm sorry."

Buffy frowned, wiped the rest of the tears away from her face. "I forgive you… if you can forgive me for letting him out."

Angel glanced up sharply. "I…" he trailed off, swallowed his protests. "I forgive you."

"Okay," Buffy let out a breath. "Okay, good. We're making good communication progress."

He gave her a stare, that clear 'what are you talking about?' stare that he always gave her when she brought up some sort of long relationship technique. She felt a deep warmth spread through her stomach and touch the bottom of her toes. That all too familiar sensation suddenly rocked through her. The burn and itch of desire that he always managed to ignite within her. 

She kissed him, but it wasn't the small, light kisses of before, but deeper, filled with the aching desire that they were so often accustomed to. He was tentative at first, but his hands moved to her back, pushing her closer. His tongue slipped into her mouth and she nipped at it lightly, moaning as she pressed herself tighter against him. Her nipples were hard, pressing against the sordid muscle of his shirtless chest and she knew that they were driving headlong into something they wouldn't be able to stop.

She didn't care.

He pulled away then, took a series of quick breaths. "Buffy…"

Her eyes were stormy with desire and voice was husky when she pressed a finger to his lips. "We can. And will." 

He nodded and mouths found each other again, hands explored places that had always been thought of as forbidden territory. She felt him press kisses to her nose, cheeks, eyes, back to her lips, down her neck, sucking and scraping her skin with blunt teeth. 

She gasped feeling his hands under her shirt, unclasping her bra. She arched against him, feeling his hardness press against her side. He closed his eyes, shook his head, pressing her gently to the floor. She fell against the cool ground of the warehouse, heart galloping at a hundred miles an hour as she pulled him down on top of her.

He kissed his way up her stomach, tickling her sides while she gasped and blood rushed through her. He spent torturous minutes that felt like hours on her breasts. Teasing and kissing each one to a hard point and sucking each nipple luxuriously into his mouth before beginning the process all over again. 

She ached with the burning need to have him inside her, to find the completion that only their joining could bring. But she savored each moment, letting herself touch him, run her hands over his finely tuned back and hard buttocks. Kiss her way down his sculpted chest and revel in the way that their lips felt against each other. 

The need became too much and she reached for his pants, unbuckling them with the practiced ease of one hand. They cried out simultaneously at the first contact of their skin. Hot against cold. 

He slipped into her, hissing at the way her heat engulfed him. Their coupling started out soft, gentle, but became fierce as the need to reassure themselves became deeper. Her hips came up to meet him as his thrusts increased and became harder. She cried out every time they met, the world spinning around her in a flurry of colours. 

And they felt whole again, complete, like nothing had made them feel since the last time they had been joined.

They climaxed together, two supernatural cries yelling out together with the force of their pleasure. When it was over, Angel collapsed against her. She closed her eyes and let out a contented little hum. She laughed softly, exhaustedly, and ran her fingers slowly through his hair. 

"I love you, Buffy," he whispered in her ear. "More than anything. More than I ever thought possible."

She turned her head, found his lips and kissed him with pathetic coordination before slumping her head back to the ground. "I love you, too. Can I sleep now?" 

He chuckled and slowly rolled off her. She curled against his side, ear pressed against the silence of his dead heart. "Buffy… if we… if Angelus…"

She felt herself go limp. "Don't."

"We don't know…"

"Anything," she finished tiredly, closing her eyes, and snuggling closer against him. "You could lose your soul at any moment. I get it. Just… shut up and hold me."

He held her, curled his body around her smaller one like he was her shield and her protector. "I don't feel evil," he reflected.

Buffy yawned. "Good to know."

He sighed and watched wearily as her eyelids began drooping. "You're really not worried."

She opened her eyes, struggled to force her pained body to a sitting position. She pulled some of her tattered remains of her clothes to her chest… which Angel found mildly ridiculous under the circumstances but he refrained from pointing it out. "Angel…" she looked at the ceiling for a moment as she tried to compose herself. "That was…"

"Amazing," he finished.

She nodded, swallowed the lump in her throat. "We did it… and, yeah, it was out of comfort, yeah, maybe we weren't really at full strength…"

Angel snorted. "I only stopped because I knew you were tired."

Buffy shot him a look… and tried to ignore the way her body responded to his words. 'Too tired!' her mind yelled in protest. She shook her head and took his hand. "We deserved it, Angel. And if the Powers that Be are going to punish us for it." She lay down, stretched out, "Then that's their loss."

He considered her words for a minute. He glanced down at her, the deep smudges under her eyes, the blood dried on her neck, her arm hanging limply at her side. He suddenly realized that there was nothing they could do if Angelus decided to make an appearance. No way that she could fight him again. 

Giving in, he stroked her hair, watching as her eyes fluttered closed. She relaxed in her sleep, body invariably shifting close to his. He was touched by the way that she seemed to trust him—even in slumber and stumped by what he had done to deserve the gift of her love. Shifting, he moved what leftover clothes he could find to cover her with. Once he was satisfied she was warm enough, he gathered her against him and let the soothing lull of her heart put him to sleep.

****

The three remaining members of the AI team, plus Dawn, huddled together in the lobby, each clutching on to a stake. Ethan Rayne lay where he had passed out. No one had bothered to move him after the initial checking to make sure his pulse was still going. They were quiet, subdued… and petrified.

No one had dared fallen asleep, even during the day. The sun had set an hour ago and there had been no sign of Angel or Buffy. They were too tired, too scared to talk. The silence was only broken by the forced act of eating. 

When the door finally opened, they tensed as one, each glancing sharply up to see who was coming upon them. Cordelia gasped, closing her eyes and raising her stake, "I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die," she mumbled over and over again under her breath. 

Dawn sucked in a breath, moved slowly towards the door, only to jump back in fear when Angel staggered in. Gunn was the first one to lose it and he fired off a shot from the crossbow he was holding. Only deep ingrained instincts made Angel roll out of its way. Gunn loaded another arrow as Angel struggled to get to his feet.

Buffy stumbled in through the door next, spied Gunn and tiredly raised her hands. "S'okay," she said and reached out to help Angel to his feet.

She leaned heavily against him and they managed to slowly make their way forward. The other four moved out of their way as they struggled towards the stairs. "Um, hello?" Cordelia asked.

"We're fine," Buffy answered. "Tired." Together they slowly made their way up the stairs, taking one step at a time.

Wesley frowned at their ratty clothing, temporary relief at seeing them both alive and, apparently, on the force of good, was replaced by worry of their health. "Perhaps you should be going to a health center." 

Buffy tried to snort but it came out as more of a groan. "Sleep," she muttered, taking another step with one hand on the railing, and the other gripping Angel's arm.

Cordelia looked them up and down and frowned. "Shower too, maybe?"

"And Angel's soul is bound!" Dawn cried cheerfully. 

 "We know," Angel replied without turning around.

And then they were gone and the AI team was alone. Again. They glanced at each other, and as one, melted to the floor. "Well that's not very fair," Cordy griped. "Leaving us to worry like that and then disappearing as soon as they get in."

"They don't look so hot," Gunn pointed out.

Wesley sighed, "I don't suppose that what they've been through was that easy."

Dawn suddenly jumped up. "They know? How do they know?"

Cordelia yawned and patted Dawn on the head. "You're much too young to be asking questions like that."

Dawn glared at her before looking at Wesley. "Do you think they… you know…"

Gunn snorted. "I bet she was just trying to comfort him."

Cordelia smiled condescendingly. "As long as you believe it…"

"I can't believe this!" Dawn muttered.

Cordelia flopped onto her back and folded her arms over her stomach. "Doesn't matter, his soul is bound."

"Yeah, but they didn't know it at the time," Dawn protested. "They knowingly put us all in danger."

Wesley gave the girl a pitying look. "I'm sure Buffy would never willingly put your life at risk," he said softly.

She shrugged, leaning back on her elbow. "I guess it doesn't matter." 

"Would you people *please* keep your traps shut?" Gunn grumped. "Some of us would like to get some sleep."

 "I love you all, you know that, right?" Cordelia suddenly blurted out, surprised by a quick, sharp feeling of emotion. 

Gunn sighed. "Cordy…"

"I'm serious," she said, rolling over on one elbow. "We came so close to losing everything that we've worked so hard for. And that scares me. I think it's going to scare me for a long time."

"It's hard to believe that he's up there now," Dawn whispered. "After everything… he hasn't even said sorry."

"It's hard to believe that Buffy can touch him now. Accept him so easily," Gunn added.

"Of course she has," Wesley interjected sharply. "Angel is too ashamed to face us. He needs time and our unconditional support. It would take a large man to look us in the eye after the things Angelus has done. And we cannot condemn him for it."

Cordelia sniffled. "I'm just glad that he's back. I'm so glad that she didn't have to kill him." She rolled back over, shutting her eyes, "Angel isn't Angelus."

Dawn chewed her lip thoughtfully. "I guess we'll have to do that whole 'recover given enough time' thing." She sighed painfully, head rolling back to lean against the couch. "And I have to get up early for school tomorrow." 

Gunn shrugged, situating himself between Cordy and Dawn and throwing an arm casually across each of their shoulders. "I don't care what y'all say. I'm staying up all night."

Cordelia yawned, and stretched out against him. "Hmmm…"

Dawn followed suit, beckoning to Wesley. "Gunn is comfy," she murmured before drifting off.

Soon Gunn, surrounded by Cordelia, Dawn and Wesley, found himself witness to the largest mass of snoring he'd ever heard. Most of which was coming from Cordelia. Groaning, he glanced up the stairs. 

"All night," he steadfastly resolved.

Five minutes later he was asleep. 

****

When Angel awoke, he caught Buffy looking at herself in their bedroom mirror. He was momentarily surprised that her moving out of bed hadn't awoken him. Frowning, he padded over to where she was staring at herself.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" she asked without turning around.

"You know that I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he said tenderly, tilting her chin up to look her in the eye. "You also know that you never have to fish for compliments with me. What's really going on?"

She blushed and leaned into his arms. He held her tightly, smoothing his hands down her arms and waiting patiently for whatever she had to say. "It's been a hard few days. Sometimes I wonder…"

"What?"

Her breath was warm against the cool skin of his chest and he unconsciously pulled her tighter against him. "Stuff. About myself. I feel lost, like it all can't be real."

He rested his chin against her head, mulling her words over. "It hasn't been easy."

She laughed bitterly. "Everything that's happened? Is it worth it? Is it worth what we put our friends through, the pain that we put ourselves through?" She paused, "Sometimes I wish that we could just…"

"Forget." 

She nodded miserably against him. 

He sighed, pressing his lips to the crown of her head. "It is," he told her quietly. 

"Is what?"

"Worth it."

Buffy blinked back tears, momentarily surprised by the sheer honesty in his words. "I love you so much. I can't stand the thought of losing you again. I can't do it anymore."

He took her hand and led her over to the bed. He gently pushed her down so she was sitting. Carefully he examined her wounds from the night before, tending those that needed tending, and making noises of approval over the ones that were closed or healed. She kept talking and he waited patiently, knowing that she needed to get it out of her system.

"I'm also worried because I brought you back from wherever you were and I don't want you to blame me for taking you away from the onlypeaceyou'veeverknown." 

He paused, a Band-Aid held up in the air. "Don't," he told her, a low warning in her voice.

She looked at him, vulnerability in her eyes, "I'm selfish because I don't think I care. I don't think I care about what you need to go through so I can have you back."

"Always you," he answered. "You're the only peace I've ever known."

She blinked, taking in his answer. "I love you."

He smiled, placing the abandoned Band-Aid on a cut above her eye and pressing his lips to the cut after he was done. "I love you, too."

"I'm not as strong as I once was, Angel," she admitted, changing the subject. "It's hard to accept that I'm so weak and that I'm so tied to one person."

He glanced sharply up. "We already tried the forgetting thing."

She shared a sad smile with him. "I guess that it didn't really work out, huh?"  
  


Angel massaged her wounded wrist and applied a proper bandage. "That's healing fast. And, no, it didn't work."

Buffy swept her eyes over his chest, before meeting his eyes. She softened. "I guess you've pretty much healed."

He touched the tips of her hair, "I'm a vampire."

"You guys must be pretty used to getting shot."

"Hmmm," he agreed nonchalantly. "You feeling better?"

She held out a hand and he helped her gracefully to her feet. "Mostly. I think that when it comes to us, ultimately, we're stronger together than apart."

He gave her a cocky grin, bending down to give her a quick kiss. "How many years did it take us to figure this out?"

Buffy felt the quick, hard shoot of desire and she was reminded how he was standing in front of her… mostly undressed. She gulped. "Plus your soul *is* bound now."

"I may have heard that rumour."

Someone shrieked and Buffy and Angel both jumped up in surprise, bodies slipping into identical attack stances. "Cordelia?" they cried in unison.

She held her hand over her eyes and stumbled around, banging into things and yelling. "I'm not looking! I'm not even here! You don't see me!"

"Cordelia," Buffy snapped, "open your eyes for God's sake."

Carefully she lowered her hand, opening one eye, followed slowly by the other. She visibly relaxed when she saw that they were decent. "Breakfast."

Angel stared at her. "You came into my room, without knocking, when you knew we could have been in the middle of something, to say you had *breakfast*?"

"Also major apologizing and groveling is scheduled," she retorted cheerfully. "I just thought I'd warn you."

She turned on her heel and flounced out of the room. Angel watched her go with a bewildered and mildly guilty face. Buffy took his hand, held it firmly.

 "Shall we?"

Angel took a deep breath. "Yeah… as soon as I find a clean shirt."

End of 16 

One part to go. Leave me precious feedback! *g*


	18. Life After Death

Title: Life After Death (17th in the 'Death' series)

Author: Goldy

Email: thegoldoneb_a@hotmail.com

Disclaimer: Joss is the big owner. I own nothing that has to do with this show. Believe me when I say *NOTHING*. Don't sue. And the awesome song is by Shania Twain (Canadian!) from her new album.

Synopsis: Buffy and Angel think of the future. Angst and fluff ensues.

Author's note: I had to disallow anonymous reviews again thanks to my own little flamer. I swear, B/Sers, giving hundreds of annoying reviews really doesn't make me like Spuffy any better.

A/N 2: Last Death Story ever. Really! It is! I'm ready to move on. I've been working on this freakin' thing for more than 18 months. Time to move to something else.

Dedication: To Laura. For making me laugh, for the beta, and for her story Second Chance. Also to Sarah Michelle Geller because she always knows exactly what to say about B/A. Not to mention that SMILE in 'End of Days'. I love that smile!

Rating: R 

Somewhere a clock is ticking.

Tick, tick, tick. 

It's the kind of tick that usually drones comfortably in the background. Now it's the kind of tick that makes silences stretch out into infinity. It's the kind of tick that makes teeth grind together when the room is silent.

It's hard… facing the rest of the gang, being forced into watching Angel try to say something—anything to make it better. And all the while knowing that there's nothing that he *can* say. Angelus will change things forever. 

I vaguely consider yelling. Anything to stop the unbearable silence—broken only by the ticking of the clock. Time is always moving.

They say that time cures even the deepest of wounds. Break up with someone, move on in time. Oh? You're mother died and you have to look after your sister? Give it some time, you'll get used to it. What? You came back from the dead? From heaven? Give it enough time, you'll get used to living in hell. 

He's talking to them now, saying some meaningless apologies. Flashing them his hurt look, that look he gives when he's done something terrible and he knows he can't ever make it better, but please give him another chance. I should know, I've seen that look more than anyone else.

I suppose that time does heal some of the deepest wounds. Yet, it can't ever heal all of them. We're doomed to live on, repeating our mistakes and holding on to a past that can never be true again.

"There's the future," I mutter aloud. They all turn to look at me.  "Maybe… maybe we have a real chance now."

Angel stares at me, understanding my words perfectly. *We* have a chance now. We have a future. And that's… that's something that I had never allowed myself to think about. 

I can almost sense him relax. It's going to be okay. Cordelia bitches about Fred, funeral arrangements—like that will make the situation any better. Gunn makes some more snotty comments about Angel killing people and having sex to make it all better. Dawn cries some and Wesley interjects every once in a while that we must all be calm and not let our personal feelings get in the way.

It's so familiar it's almost comforting. I'm almost facing the scooby gang in Sunnydale. Like the time that they all found out Angel was back. It was almost the same, Xander lashing out, Willow trying to be soothing, and Giles trying to calm everyone down. 

Either way, I can tell that it will be okay. After all, they did do the spell to bind his soul. Partly, I suspect, because they were afraid I wasn't strong enough to kill him. I Hope, they'll never know how close it was.

Ethan Rayne is gone.

I'm not even surprised. I don't know what I'd do if he were here. Smack him for putting the whammy on me? Kiss him for helping Angel? Gunn seems marginally embarrassed, but I can't find the will to care.

Then comes the big hugging scene. After the yelling is over and the tears have finished, they all seem to melt together. Even Dawn manages to find herself in the middle of it 

I stand to the side, watching them. I still feel like an outsider, watching him with his gang. I'd do anything for any of them—even Cordelia. But I'm not really one of them. I don't think I ever can be.

I make my way to the gardens, shooting the big grandfather clock in the lobby a dirty look. The Hyperion has really beautiful gardens. I remember nights coming to sit out here when it got too difficult to sleep in the same bed as Angel. 

The night is chilly and I rub the goosebumps on my arms. A lump gathers in my throat. He'll be okay. I can see how much he's hurting, and I'll never accuse any of his friends of being particularly forgiving. But I can see it—the tightening of the bond as they manage to defeat the forces of evil once again. Doesn't matter that the evil was wearing a familiar face. 

The night air is sweet and cleansing in my lungs. I like looking at the city in the night, the twinkling of the lights in the distance, the stars in the sky, and the soft outline of the flowers. I can make out the faint purple of a lilac tree in the distance.

It's good for me, I think. To see how beautiful the world can be. It's not just a loud and lonely place, there can be beauty and friendship. Love and kindness.

For the first time, I'm glad to be given a second chance. When Willow brought me back, when she forced my eyes open in my coffin, I thought I was being punished. But life is like a clock, given time it can be beautiful. Without my sadness I wouldn't be able to fully appreciate the gift I'd been given when Angel's soul came back to his body.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Startled, I turn around, relaxing upon seeing Angel's faint outlines in the doorway. I shrug, gazing off into the darkness. I'm slightly embarrassed for not noticing him, it's not usual that something can catch me off guard.

He comes up behind me, rubbing my arms. "You're cold."

I smile fondly at a memory of a place far away, a time gone past. An innocence that can never again be regained for Angel and I. I turn around to gaze at him. "Do I get another jacket out of it?"

His eyes light up as he slides his jacket off his shoulders and places it around mine. "I'm never going to let you be cold again, I promise."

He's so beautiful in the night. The outline of his body always looks more graceful in the dark, like the flex of a cat waiting to pounce. "You're cold blooded."

He gathers me close. "Just the thought of you makes me warm."

I sigh in pleasure, feeling that familiar throbbing between my legs. "You should be in there with them."

"I should be with you," he whispers, tilting my chin up. 

"I don't belong in there, Angel. You know that."

His gaze is always penetrating. We can communicate so well by looking into each other's eyes. He can plead with me, burn me until I reveal what's really going on, bore into me hungrily, just with one look. It's uncanny. I place my hand on his dead heart, almost feeling like the touch of my fingers could make it beat.

Angel grasps my hand, his eyes softening. "You're a part of them. They know that."

"They blame me for letting you out, for not rescuing Fred," I confess.

"Gunn doesn't."

That makes me snicker and I lean up to kiss him softly. I love soft kisses and I love knowing that I can kiss him harder, more passionately if I want to. "Gunn has the hots for me," I share quietly.

His hand tangles in my hair and he brings my head up. Our lips meet again, our mouths opening as it becomes deeper. When he pulls away, I know I'm letting out sharp puffs of air on his face. "I'll have to kill him now," he growls.

My heart begins to speed up, I love the territorial side of him, too. I'm *his* and too bad for anyone else. "I don't know… Gunn does have that whole 'angry at the world' thing down pretty well."

He glares at me, obviously not finding my quip very funny. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

I grin devilishly. "Of course… he's never actually gone as far as trying to suck the world into hell."

"Stupid boy," he mutters.

We kiss again. Angel kisses are definitely in my top three favourite things. "Life is beautiful," I say softly when we part.

The look he gives me is so tender it makes my toes curl in wonder. "It is." 

I touch his face, tracing his lips with my fingertips. "It's been a long time since I've felt this way."

"It's been a hard few years, love."

"No," I press my fingers down, silencing his words. I stand on my tiptoes, so our lips are just millimetres apart. "No, it's been a long time since I could kiss you—and not feel guilty."

I don't know who closed the rest of the distance, but I'm pressed up against him, mouth crushed against his. I never want to stop. I want to feel his lips against mine, his body crushing mine forever. Nothing ever felt more right, complete, than being with Angel. 

I fall to my back and look up at the stars as he enters me. I cry out with the force of our joining and watch as the stars twinkle in the distance. I feel like someone from up there is smiling down on us. 

It's about bloody time.

I arch against him, wanting to take him deeper until he splits me in two. Nothing heals the deepest wounds inside me more than being joined with him. Our pace becomes harder, and stars explode behind my eyes. 

And when it's over, he collapses on me. I hold him there, rubbing his back gently and breathing hard into his neck. He's heavy, but I like it. It makes me feel secure to have him surround me so completely.

We share a gentle kiss and he cups my face. "You're a part of me, so you're a part of them."

And that is that. I can't argue when faced against such insurmountable words. So we go back inside and I do the hugging and crying with the rest of them. Even Cordelia and I share a tender moment. I'm able to realise how they are Angel's family—and they are my family, too. They'd give their lives for mine. 

And they almost had. They had trusted Ethan enough to perform a spell that could have spelled doom for all of us. They did it because they knew I, most of all, couldn't have gone on without him.

Through my tears and my sadness, my love and my sorrow, my heart begins to fill again. Time can heal even the deepest of wounds—time made me love my life again.

***

Fred's funeral.

It's a rainy day, as if symbolising the anguish of Fred's loss to the world. To me it's another friend that I've had to bury too early, another life that I haven't been able to save. To Angel… to Angel it's the epitome of all the fear that he is forced to live with every day.

To the others, it's a friend who's died in the line of duty. And none of us will ever forget Fred—or the fact that she died when it could easily have been any of us.

The hardest part is seeing her parents. They cling to each other, but are surprisingly warm to the gang. It's clear that they don't blame any of us for what happened. They believe that Winifred Burkle died doing her duty. 

Angel looks like he'll keel over when he talks to them, and I know he wants so badly to confess that he did it. But he's even more petrified of them finding out. For my part, I can't say anything to them. Seeing their faces and obvious relation to Fred cuts me too deep.

It's a closed casket service.

The funeral procession is at night. I don't stand near Angel—I can't bear it. I hold on to Dawn instead. I know everyone else is crying, but I can't let myself. I stare wide-eyed as the coffin is laid into the grave. A chill shakes me and I turn away.

A safe distance away, I let myself dry heave onto the cold of the earth. The rain splashes down around me and I cradle my head in my arms. I remember all too well the pain of awaking in my coffin. The tightness of the walls and the stifling heat that tried to choke me. 

And the only thing in Fred's coffin is some ash from the bottom of a warehouse.

I gasp, my lungs sucking in air too fast. Dizzy, I put out a hand to stop the crash of my fall. The ground is wet and damp and dirt clings to the palm of my hand. I get up slowly, closing my eyes.

Fred is dead. She can't feel the oppression of the coffin and the confinement of the earth being thrown on top of her. I press my fingers to my eyes, willing the images to leave. Shakily I climb back to her grave. Only Angel is left. I watch him for a minute, my breath coming out in sharp gasps. 

He turns around to look at me, his eyes darkening with realisation when he spies the splashes of dirt on my clothes and the tight quiver of my mouth. He holds out an arm and I go to him.

We look at her grave for a little while longer, our thoughts too deep and complex to be broken by words. The rain drips down and I lean against him gratefully. 

She's dead. And I finally let myself cry in grief.

****

The beach.

I love the beach, as Angel rightfully knows. He says that he wanted to bring me someplace where we can just be ourselves. It's always beautiful here, and I love how it makes me feel young and carefree again.

We sit together on the beach, a little picnic spread out before us. The waves crash onto the jagged rocks of the cove and the wind blows through the blonde of my hair. The air is sweet and slightly tangy with the taste of salt. 

I smile at him, leaning back to study the planes of his face. "You like bringing me here."

His eyes light up. "I wanted to bring you to a place that meant something." He grasps my hand, "This is where our lives turn. I'm going to make you happy from now on."

"You could always make me happy," I say. And it's true… he could just also make me more miserable than anything else. 

_{           If I were the moon, I could_

_ catch your eye – I'm jealous of the moon_

_            If I were the wind, I would_

_ make you fly – I'm jealous of that too }_

He stands up, pulling me with him. "Will you dance with me?"

"There's no music," I protest, but I slide against him, anyway.

He wraps his arms around me, moving us slowly across the sand. The moonlight bathes us in its glow and I close my eyes in contentment. "We can make our own music," he whispers in my ear.

_{           I wish I were the sun shinning_

_     on your face – caressing like a lover_

_ I would wrap you up in a warm embrace – _

_            we'd be holdin' one another_

_              (I'm jealous of the sun)_

_               I'm jealous of the sun_

_            (Jealous of the sun) Oh,_

_             I'm jealous of the sun                        }_

I sigh, breathing him. Angel is always clean, very fresh smelling for a vampire, if I do say so myself. I love the way he smells, like a new bar of Ivory soap that has yet to be opened. It never fails to soothe and comfort me.

His hands trail over my back, wonderingly touching me with each tip and brush of a fingertip. He loves to touch me, hold me, kiss me. It's a gift for him. Every time our lips meet it's a privilege—a reward.

_{      Oh, I don't wanna share you with_

_    nothing else – I gotta have you to myself_

_      Oh, - I can't help it – I'm so in love –_

_     I just can't have you close enough, no_

_     When the sun's on your skin –_

_               I can't hold it in_

_        And I know it's a sin – _

_    But I'm jealous of the sun               }_

Our lips meet, the kiss slow and passionate. His hand tangles in my hair, the other lazily creeping down my spine. I open my mouth and our tongues meet and dance. The water crashes against the shore and Angel kisses me. The world could have gone to hell in that moment and I wouldn't have noticed. 

He pulls away and rests his forehead against mine. "I could kiss you forever," he murmurs, rocking me gently.

I sigh and lean my head against his chest. I'm so safe in his arms. He's my rock, no matter how bad the storm gets. I know I'll always have him. "I love you."

"And I love you, Ms. Summers."

_{I wish I were the rain runnin' down your_

_   neck – and drippin' from your fingers_

_ Then I could be the drops rollin' off your_

_          Back – I'd love to let it linger_

_             (Jealous of the rain) Oh,_

_               I'm jealous of the rain         }_

The sand sifts between my toes and is cool against the skin of my feet. The only thing around for miles is just the two of us, the water crashing against the shore, the wind in my hair, and the moonlight that bathes us in its glow.

All the pain, the death, the terror is gone. I can't help but grin at him, a grin so wide that he can't do anything but smile back. Despite everything we've had to go through, I've seen Angel smile more times since he got his soul back than in six previous years. Every time he smiles it's like he's igniting a flame in my heart.

He loves being allowed to be happy—and I love trying to make him happy.

Our next kiss is sweet and chaste, a slight brush of my lips against his. It's a silent promise of love and devotion. Then we rock together, slow and sensuously. We dance to the tune in our hearts.

 He touches my hair and gazes down at me.  "You look beautiful in the moon."

I tilt my head up, meet his eyes. "So do you," I tell him truthfully.

_{ When the moon's in your eyes – _

_ you seem to light up the skies, yeah_

_                And I realize – _

_    I'm even jealous of the moon         }_

He rocks us towards the crash of the water, pulling me against him so that we can gaze out at the ocean's expanse. I give an involuntary shiver. "I had a dream about this once." 

He's so still behind me that I can hear the pounding of my heart in my ears. "I know."

The memory of that time comes rushing back to me. Of being Anne and trying to live with the guilt of her lover's blood on her hands. "We were at the beach, and you were holding me. You promised to stay with me forever."

His arms tighten around me. " 'Even if you kill me.'"

I blink back the tears of the painful memory. "Angel, we were in the sun. You were standing in direct sunlight."

He slowly turns me around so that I can look him in the eye. "Buffy… there's something that I haven't told you." Some of my instant fear must show on my face because he smiles warmly. "It's good."

I cock my head, "Angel…?"

He takes my hand, directing it so it points to the quiet of the beach. "Imagine," he breathed huskily in my ear, "our children running along that beach."

My heart speeds up and the breath catches in my throat. "Where are we?"

He moves my hand, "Over there. You're trying to get me to wear suntan lotion because I'm so pale. " He pauses, "You're even more beautiful in direct sunlight."

"Angel…"

"I'm serious," he says sharply. "Cordelia and Wesley are there, too. She's hitting him because he forgot the picnic basket on the counter."

I blink back tears that are suddenly threatening my vision. "Angel… you know we can't ever have it."

"We can," he says quietly.

His words catch me off guard, and I turn slowly around to watch him suspiciously. "What haven't you told me?"

He takes my small hand in his, places it upon his heart. "My heart is going to beat one day, Buffy."

My throat is dry and scratchy. Breathing makes it hurt. "Human…"

"There's a prophecy."

"Prophecy?"

"It's my reward, after several impending apocalypses, the vampire with a soul will live after the End of Days. My reward. My shanshu."

"Shanshu…." My head spins, and I lean against him to stop myself from falling over.

He holds me close. "I'm going to be human one day, Buffy."

"Why haven't you told me this before?"  
  


He looks away. "It could be years away. I couldn't trap you in a dream that may never happen."

"Now?"  
  


He presses a kiss to my forehead. "Now that dream seems closer than ever before."

I should probably be angry at him for keeping something this large from me. He probably found out three years ago from a prophecy Wesley thought meant he was going to die or something. Then some of that 18th century guilt got in the way and he figured I was better off not knowing. 

It sounds just like him.

I can't be angry with him. He told me, I didn't have to find it out from Cordelia or some other horrible source. For the first time I'm allowed to plan a future for myself with little Buffys and Angels running around. The image makes me half smile/half grimace.

"Just how pale are you?" I tease gently, my eyes lighting up with the image. 

He gives me an appreciative look. "Making all those children… we had to be indoors a lot."

I raise an eyebrow. "Really?"

 He smirks. "Gunn becomes quite jealous."

I chuckle. "It sounds too good to be true," I mutter. "With our luck, one of us will end up dead, staked, or evil by the time you actually get rewarded." My eyes widen pleadingly as I search for something in his face to reassure my fears. 

"No, we'll get our reward."

"How can you be sure?"

"We got through everything this year, Buffy," he tells me honestly. "Pain, my alter ego, internal battles, yelling, Spike and even…"

"Even death," I finish.

He nods gravely and takes my hand. We slowly walk away from the beach. It's time to start being happy… and planning the future.

_{ __Oh, I don't wanna share you with nothing_

_         else – I gotta have you to myself_

_      Oh – I can't help it – I'm so in love –_

_      I just can't get you close enough, no           }_

The End.

 As in the Very End. 

As in it's finally over. 

Here endeth my epic story of Buffy and Angel finding each other again.

I hope you've enjoyed. 

Leaveth me feedback!


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